Eleanor Claringbold

By Eleanor Claringbold

The Northern Traverse… this was the big one! The first event I ever worked on for Ourea Events, and the one I had my heart set on. Having hiked the Coast to Coast back in 2021, I felt inspired by the route. Plus the idea of a continuous race running through the night seemed thrilling to me!

However, this would be a challenge – I had never done anything like this before! Once signed up, I committed to training, practising with my pack and my kit, recce-ing sections of the route, strengthening my legs, while I eagerly anticipated race day.  

THROUGH THE LAKES

On the start line, I was buzzing. I was of course nervous. I had absolutely no idea if I could do this, but I knew that no matter what happened, it would be an adventure.

I placed myself towards the back – the last thing I needed was to get carried away trying to keep up with the speedy people. Before I knew it, we were off!

As we ran down the hill, I was beaming. I was finally doing this! It was a stunning day, the sea was glistening in the sunshine, and I was enjoying trotting past people.

It wasn’t too long before the field got strung out. Around the lighthouse we went, and as we hit the road, I began running with a lovely lady named Lucy, who had done the Spine Challenger Events before.

There were a few fiddly navigational bits on the next section, and I slowed down a little and took a few walk breaks, aware that I was perhaps going a bit fast.

As we began the climb towards the Lake District proper, I got into a rhythm with my poles. The sun was unbelievably hot, and I had already drunk a lot of my water. I dipped my cap in a stream to cool down.

As I ran into Ennerdale Bridge water point, I was delighted to see many friendly faces. Ian and Colin filled my water bottles and I had a quick chat with Nikki. I was also surprised but pleased to see some of my Black Combe friends who had set out on the Lakes Traverse an hour prior to the Northern Traverse. I also used the chance to use the toilet, before waving the others goodbye and continuing on my journey.

I’d gone out a bit too fast, but the rocky terrain along Ennerdale Water was bound to slow me down. It was stunning along the Lake, and I was happy to see David Wood snapping photos as I picked my way along the rocky trail. At the end of the Lake, it was a long drag on a track to the Black Sail Hut. From memory, this track was completely flat, but I was now learning that it is in fact gently uphill. However, I was ticking over well.

Eventually, we reached the start of the first big climb. It was steep going up Loft Beck, but I took it very steady and stopped to fill my bottles, which were running low. The climb went on for a while, but once it levelled out, we were rewarded with the most spectacular views towards Buttermere and Crummock Water. I couldn’t believe how lucky we were with the weather!

The descent into Honister was rocky and painful. My heart sank, as my legs were already hurting massively on descending. However, as soon as the trail levelled a bit, I picked up the pace again. Here, the race joined another trail race, and it was funny running along with some runners from a different event. One runner was lying by the side of the trail, seizing up with cramp in the heat. A fellow Northern Traverse runner gave him some salt tablets, and we made sure he was okay before pressing on.

We weren’t far now from the first proper checkpoint, Borrowdale, only 47km in. Once I pulled up into the checkpoint, I was delighted to see Sue and Greg. I gave them both a sweaty hug, and Greg refilled my water while I scoffed some pizza. I grabbed some more pizza to go before heading on my way.

I took it steady going through Borrowdale while I digested my food. I briefly saw my other half, who was out for a run himself, before beginning the climb. The climb began gently, but it went on and on and on, eventually becoming steep just before the col.

I enjoyed a brief runnable respite before the downhill. Once again, my legs were hurting as I picked my way down the rocks. I was delighted to be joined by Barry, who was doing the Lakes Traverse, and it was lovely to catch up. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, giving the fells a beautiful orange glow. Eventually, I stopped and took some paracetamol, and this was the boost I needed. Once the trail became less rocky, I was flying, and it didn’t seem too long until I was heading towards the road near Grasmere.

©My BIB Number photography

After such a rocky section, the tarmac was a relief, though I was grateful once the climb towards Grisedale began. On the way up, I passed Bramrigg House, the holiday rental where I’d spent many happy memories as a child and remembered both my grandmothers who are sadly no longer with us.

Just after the stream junction, I was once again caught by my partner Matthew. This would be the last time I would see him now until tomorrow, so I was sad to say goodbye to him, but with the sun getting lower, I couldn’t stop for long or else I’d get cold.

The climb was gentle, and it wasn’t too long until we reached Grisedale Tarn. In the sunset, it was truly breath-taking, and I noticed there were a few wild campers who were making the most of the glorious evening. Before tackling the long descent into Patterdale, I put on an extra layer and my head torch, and began picking my way down the hillside. Eventually, I caught another lady Claire, and we ran together for a bit before I pressed on once the trail became more runnable.

The descent into Patterdale was long and went on forever, but eventually, I saw the lights of a marshal ahead, who was directing Lakes participants into the cricket club, and Northern towards the school. On the road, I hit a real pace as I was so excited to get to the checkpoint for my first hot meal. The marshals directing me into the school originally thought I was with Lakes Traverse as I was moving too quickly! (I paid for this later on!)

I was greeted in Patterdale by Lorna, who immediately sorted me out with chips! In my eagerness, I wolfed down the chips far too quickly and had to pause to let them go down. My main priority was getting warm layers out and changing into leggings for the night section. I enjoyed chatting a bit with Greg, before heading out to face the darkness.

I enjoyed the climb out of Patterdale, though struggled with layering. I was getting hot in all my layers going up, so took my jacket off, only to put it back on again only 10 minutes later once the wind kicked in. There were more wild campers up here, and their tents were like little lanterns glowing in the dark.

The next section was tricky with nav and slow going, but eventually the steep climb round the back of the Knott began, so I put my head down and climbed. It was claggy, making the head torches difficult to make out. I was looking out for a left hand turn. Fortunately, a runner had chosen the turning point as a stop for a snack, so together we made the turn along the trod towards Kidsty Pike.

Reaching the top of Kidsty Pike felt like an achievement. That was the highest point of the race done! But now for the painful descent. I took it steady and stopped for a paracetamol. At Kidsty Howes, the descent became scrambly, so I made a meal of this, dropping down to my backside.

Eventually we made it to Haweswater, and so the march began. I focused on making what progress I could, gradually catching people up, as I tucked behind Helen Williams, who had a good marching pace. Haweswater went on and on and on. It felt like the lake that never ended.

Eventually we hit Burnbank, which was my cue to start running again. I had recced the bit from Burnbank, and I knew it was pretty runnable, so I got a bit cocky here and started pulling away from the group at a decent pace. My cockiness was punished when I got on the wrong side of a wall and had to go all the way back to correct.

Upon approaching Shap, I ran as if it was the last kilometre of a 10k (I know – not very sensible, but I was excited!) I was ecstatic upon arriving in the hall. I was greeted by so many friends who were volunteering, and wolfed down a large bowl of chilli smothered in cheese. There were lots of tired looking people in Shap, many of whom had their heads down on the table getting some sleep. I was far too buzzed to sleep, and enjoyed catching up with Nat and Duncan scoffing down a second bowl of chilli before heading back out into the night.

©My BIB Number photography

SHAP TO KIRKBY STEPHEN

I had hoped I might find someone to do this next section with, but no one seemed to be leaving any time soon, so I pressed on. It was slow leaving Shap. The nav was faffy, so I was constantly slowing down to check I was going the right way. The moon looked pretty spectacular though, an orange half-crescent hanging low in the sky.

There was something exciting about crossing the M6. I was now leaving the Lake District for good. I had done 100km now (up till now, the furthest I’d ever run) so I was entering the unknown!

As I pressed on through the moorland, the sky began gradually lightening, until I could turn off my head torch. The ground was white and frosty, but had an orange glistening tint to it. It was spectacular. There was more climbing than I remembered, but I didn’t mind this. With no one ahead or behind me, I began singing to keep myself going. I vaguely wondered that it might be a bit embarrassing if I were to stumble into someone, but fortunately this didn’t happen.

As the sun came up, the Howgills in the skyline were breathtaking. Eventually I reached the steep climb up to Beacon Hill. I was looking forward to this bit, having not done it before. It was lovely in the early morning light.

I didn’t enjoy descending towards Orton, but eventually I hit the fields. There were lots of cute lambs, but at one point I wasted about 5 minutes trying to close a gate. We got there in the end.

It was easy going to Sunbiggin Tarn. I was going well, but I was looking forward to a rest at Kirkby Stephen. Coming down Begin Hill was when the wheels came off and the first severe low hit me. My legs and knees were in so much pain descending this hill, and I could feel an extremely painful blister on my right toe. I was still only 115km in, progress was slow and everything hurt. Kirkby Stephen still felt so far away!

Climbing up Smardale Fell felt marginally better for the uphill, but I was tired, and once going downhill, I was in agony. I was completely unable to run. Having been on my own for hours, people were now catching me. It was a death march into Kirkby Stephen. Once hitting the town, the road seemed to stretch on for miles, and I didn’t know if I could do this.

Finally, I hit the school. The first thing I did was order a bowl of mac and cheese. Next thing I needed to do was inspect my feet. No wonder my toe was hurting so much. A nasty blood blister had taken over my entire little toe, including under the nail. It was time to see a medic.

I got my blister kit and K tape out, and went to see the very helpful medics. One lady tried to distract me while another medic lanced my blister. I was feeling incredibly squeamish and shaky. It was horribly unpleasant but I was grateful for the medics’ help. What’s more, my right knee was now so sore that I couldn’t fully extend it. Now I’d sat down, I had stiffened up and it was struggling to take any weight.

Blister lanced, it was time to go for a sleep. Pip and Helen were now in the checkpoint getting sorted, and I admired how much they had their personal admin down. After putting my sleep kit into a separate bag, I went over with Pip and Helen to the tents set up in the Sports Hall.

I put on lots of layers, some ear plugs, set an alarm for 90 minutes and tried to sleep. It was useless. It was noisy, and my legs were in so much pain I couldn’t get comfortable. When Helen’s alarm went off after an hour, I gave up. I must have had some small stretches of sleep within that, but it didn’t feel like it. Now I was standing up, I could barely walk. I hobbled to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, feeling disoriented. I looked in the mirror and wasn’t sure I recognised myself. For some reason, I couldn’t control myself from silently weeping. I didn’t know why I was crying – only that I couldn’t stop.

Shuffling back to the main room, I ordered some chips. I knew that if I was feeling emotional while running, chances are I needed more food. I bumped into Andy, who was working on the Response Team.

“Last time I saw you you were flying!” He said. It was true – when I’d seen him at the Saddleworth 15 Res’s I was running well, while now I could barely walk. But it was nice to see a friendly face.

After some kit faff, Morag took me back to look at my blister and my knee. While I was having my blister seen to, Sarah on the Response Team came in to let me know that Matthew was here to see me. I immediately burst into tears, which I think also made Morag tear up.

After having tape applied to the back of my dodgy knee, I hobbled out to see Matthew. Suddenly now he was here (and now I had some food in my belly), everything didn’t seem so bad. The sun was out, and I began readying myself to go again. The plan was to try and get over Nine Standards in the daylight.

KIRKBY STEPHEN TO RICHMOND

At around 4pm, I was on my way, this time in a larger pair of shoes, with my little toe taped up. As I headed down the hill, I was limping. I hoped against hope that it would ease up, as at this pace, there’d be no way I’d make it as far as Richmond let alone Robin Hood’s Bay. I knew from here on in it would be slow going, but I hadn’t come here to do a fast time. I had come here to make it to the end.

An older couple who were here to support another competitor remarked, “You’re not moving well!”

 “State the obvious why don’t you?” I thought to myself.

Fortunately, as I began the climb to Nine Standards, my legs seemed to kick into gear, and while I wasn’t moving fast, the uphill meant I no longer needed to limp. It was a beautiful afternoon, and I made it my goal to make it to the top of Nine Standards before my tracker predicted. Game on.

After overtaking a runner on the climb, I was successful! The sun was hanging lower in the sky, and there a bit of a breeze, so I put my windproof and a hat on.

I had been nervous about navigating this next section, remembering the boggy hell from hiking the route. However, with the route being upgraded to a National Trail, there were now piles of flagstones ready to be placed marking out the whole way. It was as if the Nine Standards had multiplied!

I was slow following them, as my knee meant running was out of the question, but I was cautiously optimistic. At Ravenseat, I put on an insulated layer as the sun was due to drop any minute. Making my way into Keld, I was joined by two other runners, Jon and Gordon and we plodded into the night. We were now halfway!

There were some adorable lambs frolicking in the path in the residual light, but now the dark was setting in, I could feel the sleep deprivation catching up with me. I felt drunk.

Seeing a comfy looking bank of grass, I sent Jon and Gordon on ahead, while I set a timer for five minutes to try and remedy the tiredness. I woke up with a minute and a half still to go and feeling cold, so I pressed on, eager to catch them back up.

The next bit was scrambly and precipitous, and I regretted having let the others go on ahead as I clung to the ledge in the dark. I tried my best to put on some speed up the hill, but their head torches seemed to stretch away from me. The climb went on longer than I remembered, but eventually I hit the track. I was looking out for a turning left, and on reaching this turning, I finally caught Jon and Gordon.  

As we picked our way down a tricky descent, we saw a couple of head torches climbing up the other side of the valley. After stopping for some kit adjusting, we began the climb towards the lead mines. It started gently, but a sharp turn took us up a steep scramble. Jon was climbing well and pulling ahead, but Gordon was struggling. While I was climbing okay, the sleep deprivation was messing with my head. The rocks took on strange shapes - one looked particularly like a giant African land snail.

When we rounded the top, Gordon and I stopped for a brief sit, and let Jon go on, as he was moving really well.

On we pressed. The track down to Surrender Bridge went on a while, and in the monotony I felt myself being lulled to sleep. I slowed down to a stumble and zig-zagged across the trail. The small part of my brain that was conscious expected Gordon to say something, but he was suffering the same fate.

I suggested we sit a moment, but he said it was too cold and exposed up here. Eventually, we had to give in, so we stopped to put on another layer and drifted off for a couple of minutes before pressing on.

Just those couple of minutes of shut eye alleviated the stupor long enough to get us to Surrender Bridge, where the route joined moorland. It was a slog to Reeth. We stopped for another quick sleep, knowing a head torch behind us would soon wake us. We managed to find the track down to the town, but it kept going and going. The only thing that kept me motivated was the thought of finding a bus shelter to sleep in.

In Reeth, it was the dead of the night. Deciding we had enough water, we skipped the out-and-back to the Dales Bike Centre optional support point.

As we turned towards Marrick Priory, I found myself in need of another power nap and lay down on the grassy verge, accidentally putting my hand in a stinging nettle. This nap didn’t last long enough, and as Gordon and I began the climb through Step Woods, I realised I couldn’t keep going. I told Gordon to head on without me, while I set a 5 minute timer to nap on a seat formed in the wall. It was far too cold to sleep for any longer than 5 minutes, and with each nap I was waking up shivering despite being in two insulated layers.

Somewhat renewed, I pressed upwards until I got to Marrick. I set myself the target to make it to Marske before taking another nap.

Before turning onto the pastures, I saw a lovely little hedgehog in the path. I looked again – it wasn’t a sleep hallucination!

The next section through fields was a blur. I joined some runners briefly, but once we hit Marske, they vanished on the downhill, while I could only walk gingerly down the descent! Upon reaching a bench, I didn’t stop for a sleep, but I did put on another layer and ate some food.

I knew it was still a way to Richmond, and I just had to keep going. The sleepiness kicked in just before the climb onto Applegarth Scar. Seeing a head torch behind me, I sat on the step in the middle of the path and shut my eyes.

I was woken by the head torch shining in my face. It was Wiebke! Wiebke was moving strong and it was brilliant to see someone I knew, so I cracked on with her and tried to feed off her energy. The next few miles were fun, as we chatted and made good progress. All the while, the sun was gradually creeping up in the sky.

Eventually we hit the road into Richmond. We were so nearly there! It was a wonderful moment arriving into Richmond to see Sue, Greg, Morag, Lucy and Libbi with her puppy River!!

First thing was first – I needed to eat! I ate a hearty breakfast of veggie sausages with hash browns and baked beans. Next, I needed sleep. I headed to the tent, threw on all my layers, set a timer for 2 hours, and put my head down.

Every time I felt myself drifting off, I woke up shivering. I was simply too cold to sleep. After an hour, I gave up, finding I desperately needed the toilet anyway! Having once again stiffened up, I was shuffling around the camp.

I had another helping of hash browns and beans, and reloaded my bag with food for the next leg.

RICHMOND TO LORDSTONES

At around 10am, I was on my way. The sun was out in full force and the air was warm again. The checkpoint had revived me, I was feeling optimistic, ready for the day ahead… only to immediately make a silly nav error.

Still, back on track, I was feeling good! I stopped to chat to a few members of the general public who were interested in what was going on.

This section is known for being flat and boring. I had really hoped that if I made it this far, I would still be able to run, but unfortunately with my knee in the state it was, the most I could manage was a march, while other runners with stronger legs came trotting past. It was demoralising, but I kept going.

Brompton was a good landmark to reach, and I had the small boost of overtaking some German Coast to Coast hikers, who were rather baffled by the whole concept. Soon I hit the road of doom, but I got a good march on.

I set my sights on beating the tracker estimated time to Danby Wiske, and to keep myself occupied, it was time to belt out some musical theatre songs. I was getting lost in the singing, when I realised a large group of male runners were gaining on me, so I hushed up, not wanting them to think I’d completely lost the plot!

I motivated myself to get to Danby Wiske with the promise of a nap in the sun. I lay down on the bench intending to sleep, but with it being such a beautiful day, sleep wasn’t happening, so I settled for munching on a flapjack.

My sights were now set on my next landmark… the A19 garage, and the start of the North York Moors. I went through field after field, each farmhouse similar to the last.

There were also far too many stiles. Stiles were now a special form of torture, and it took about five minutes to get over the tall ones.

The stile just before the train track had some Halloween decorations and noise effects. I resumed singing, this time adding pop songs into the mix. The A19 garage seemed so close now… I could hear the road even, and yet it was unending. I was getting thoroughly fed up, when I finally saw the garage, and by it, Matthew.

On entering the garage, I knew exactly what I wanted.

“Do you have any pizzas left?” The lady looked rather embarrassed when upon confirming that, yes, they did have pizzas, I burst into tears!

I ordered a BBQ chicken pizza and a bottle of coke. What I thought would be a small pizza, turned out to be a large. There’s no way I can possibly eat all this, I thought. I was wrong. Within minutes, I’d polished off the whole thing. I sat happily at the table charging my phone, while I chattered away to Matthew who watched as I got pizza all round my mouth.

Before long we were joined by a couple of other runners, including Lucy who I had been running with at the start. It was like a little impromptu checkpoint. It was tough to drag myself away from this safe haven, but I knew I had to reach Lordstones, and preferably by midnight.

What lay ahead was the most dangerous part of the whole route – crossing the A19! But I found a gap in the traffic just large enough to allow me to hobble across, and began my climb into the moors and into the darkness. After the previous night’s struggles, I was apprehensive about another night, but hopeful that if I made it to Lordstones, I could pass a few of the darkness hours in the checkpoint.

Before long I was joined by Lucy, and it was nice to tackle the climb together. I’d never been up here at night before, and there was something beautiful about the bleakness of it. I was also surprised by how bright the lights of Middlesborough were!

We were now following the Cleveland Way. The descent was painful for both me and Lucy, but it was lovely to have company.

It was a steep climb to Carlton Bank. Given the hills weren’t even that high, it went on for a long time! But eventually it was time to painfully pick our way down into Lordstones.

As we approached the checkpoint, a figure in yellow emerged out the darkness. It was Lorna!

In the main marquee, I was greeted by Greg, who brought me a hot chocolate and a jacket potato with bolognese and the most delicious melted cheese. Having failed to sleep in the tents at the previous checkpoints, I tried a new strategy here – I tried to sleep in the main marquee by putting my head down on the table.

However, this strategy wasn’t any more successful than the previous one. If I leant forwards and rested my head on the table, my hip flexors went into spasm. However, if I leant back, my neck couldn’t get comfortable.

After an hour of restlessness, I again gave up, and instead decided to see to my other needs. I desperately needed to change my clothes and see to my feet and chafing. I hadn’t originally planned to take a shower, but having heard they were warm, this seemed like a good idea.

I made the perilous journey to the showers, and was hit by a comforting wall of warmth upon entering! Getting out of my clothes was tricky. I had expected to be a skeleton by now, but instead, my body was retaining water to the extent that I now resembled the Michelin man. The warm water was instant relief. I briefly thought I had made a grave error – how was I possibly ever going to leave the shower?! Eventually though, I dragged myself out.

Putting on some more body glide and fresh clothes, I felt renewed. I was just faffing with kit when…

“Are you alright?” It was Lorna come to use the bathroom. In the warmth, I’d fallen asleep! I let myself drift off for a much needed few extra minutes, before applying trench to my feet, brushing my teeth, and heading back to the marquee.

I had more beans and hash browns with cheese while I started readying myself for the final push. Lorna brought me a printout of my Traverse Mail, which was a lovely boost. It was now time for my clown shoes – the large size 8.5 shoes I’d bought specially for this final section. Putting my feet into these enormous shoes was such a relief – my feet could finally breathe!

Lucy hadn’t emerged yet, so I headed into the night alone just after 4am.

LORDSTONES TO GLAISDALE

As I was halfway up the hill, I realised I was wearing an excessive number of layers. I would now be stuck carrying these layers for the rest of the race making my bag very heavy.

I don’t remember too much of the next section. The slabs on the Cleveland Way took on weird shapes. I could have sworn there was a runner ahead only for it to morph into a tree. I tried to pick up a buff a runner had dropped to find it was just the rock slab. There were little mini racing cars on the ground either side of the path. I’m still not sure what exactly those were – presumably rocks.

I’m not sure how much progress I made between the hours of 4 and 6am.

Lucy joined me just before the Wainstones, which were eerie and majestic in the clag. Lucy was moving well now, having been taped up by medics. I, on the other hand, was incoherent and unable to keep up.

The sun was rising. I decided a nap might be what I needed to wake up to the new day. I stopped on a bench, shut my eyes for a couple of minutes, and then on I went.

Then, I was struck by a wonderful idea – I had brought music with me! I put my headphones in and put on the first thing that came up.

The effect was transformational. Suddenly I had all the energy in the world. I was not only able to run, I was able to skip! I sang and danced along, enjoying this new burst of energy.

This new lease of life got me as far as the dismantled railway track, until the effects wore off. This section was relentless. The clag would not lift, leaving an icy chill over the moors. And each corner turned, I didn’t seem to be getting any closer. At the end of this section was the Lion Inn Pub, but where was it?

The clag and the monotony was making me sleepy. Seeing some hikers heading towards me, I lay down on the side of the trail and shut my eyes for a nap.

When I got back up, I realised the same song I’d been listening to was still playing, and the hikers hadn’t gained much ground. I must have been out for less than a minute. The hikers were very concerned, and asked me to look after myself. I must have been an odd sight!

Eventually, the pub appeared on the horizon out of the mist. I had something to aim for now, so I marched and shuffled/ran, until I climbed up the wall to the pub.

As soon as I reached the pub, the sun came out! It was too early to be open, but I stopped to take off my waterproof trousers and jackets, as I was sweltering!

I now had ‘only’ 44km to go.

I ploughed on. It was 15km to Glaisdale and I didn’t want to dawdle. Teaming up with another runner kept me motivated for a short time, until he forged on ahead at a good running pace, while I resorted to my ultra march (stumble). Putting my music back in, I tried to recapture my energy, singing and even dancing to keep pushing forward, but the bursts of energy were short-lived.

There was nothing for it but to keel over into some heather for another micro-sleep. I was out for less than a minute, but I felt somewhat refreshed.

Glaisdale Rigg went on a while. Fortunately, I bumped into Dave, one of the volunteers, out for a trot. Seeing him was a welcome confirmation that Glaisdale Support Point wasn’t far.

Glaisdale was wonderfully laidback. One of the volunteers made me a cheese and marmite sandwich, and I refilled my coke bottle with some flat cola.

GLAISDALE TO THE FINISH

Just 32k to go! I was going to do this – and I was going to do this today! I probably wasn’t going to quite beat the sunset, but I could at least make sure I finished by midnight (I couldn’t face another night!) I smashed out the next section, marching well on the flats and uphills, and grimacing with each baby step on the downhills.

It was strange seeing the tourists in Grosmont in the sunshine. Now for THAT steep hill up through Grosmont. While a lot of people had nightmares about this steep hill, I weirdly enjoyed it, because at least I wasn’t descending!

Leaving Grosmont behind, I had a small moorland section, before a knee-breaking descent into Littlebeck. With each step I felt a stabbing in my kneecaps. There was nothing for it. I turned around and started marching downhill backwards, using my poles to steady myself.

In Littlebeck, I turned into the woodland. I was trying to press on, but I just felt… so… tired... I sat down on a step and shut my eyes for 60 seconds. That would do!

Eventually I reached Falling Foss café. It was closed for the evening. The café signalled 10 miles left, but I felt myself tearing up. 10 miles was such a long way! As I wept and felt sorry for myself, I caught sight of Christiaan the photographer, and gave him a weak smile. He told me that Harriet was further up the trail, so I put on a brave face for the cameras.

Seeing Harriet was a good little boost, but I dropped off again once she left me. How was it still so far? The sign told me 5 miles to Hawsker.

Reaching the top of the hill, there was more moorland. I could see the sea and the outline of Whitby Abbey on the horizon. I was going to get this done, but with my goal so within reach, suddenly everything seemed difficult. Just one foot in front of the other. I tried to shovel in some cashew nuts – all my sweet treats now hurt my throat.

The moorland was tricky under foot. With the sun low in the sky, my vision was wobbly, and I saw an exotic Fennec fox, only to realise it was just a bush. The road was dull, and every time it went downhill, I had to walk backwards.

I called Matthew in tears. “I can’t do another 6km!” I said between uncontrollable sobs!

After going through Hawsker, I had a painful road down through the caravan park to go. The sky was pink, and the sun had just dropped below the sky. I tried to take a mental screenshot of the scene. I was back in all my layers. As I descended backwards through the caravan park, another runner came past me, and we exchanged a few words of encouragement.

I hit the coast path, and a change came over me. The tracker said my ETA was 22:30. I had two choices: either drag this out till midnight, or get it done. No more feeling sorry for myself. I set the goal to be in by 22:15, and I marched.

The ups were good, the downs were painful, but I kept pressing on. There was a head torch behind me, but I didn’t let him catch. Before long, I was on the road.

I managed a run (shuffle) until OUCH! That final steep downhill – so cruel! It would be so embarrassing to walk backwards into the finish, but also it would take me half an hour to get down otherwise. So backwards I went, as far as the corner, where some people in the pub were cheering for me, then for that final little stretch I ran to the shore!

It was a blur! Libbi, Nathan, Fiona, Jimmy and Matthew were all there! Duncan put the medal round my neck, and I got my pebble out to throw in the sea. The time was 9:53pm – after 85 hours and 23 minutes, I’d done it!

I couldn’t believe it! Finishing surrounded by so many supportive people was so special.

The next couple of hours are blurred in my mind. Waddling up the hill, falling into the Event Centre, getting a big hug from Shane and debriefing with him over a cup of tea. I felt inebriated, and my whole body was swollen and in pain. I had no clue what was going on. And yet, somehow, I was here!

©My BIB Number photography

RECOVERY AND REFLECTIONS

It took a couple of days for my body to go back down to a normal size and even longer before I could fit my fat feet and cankles into regular shoes. The pain subsided, though my feet still tingle. My blood blister had re-formed in the final stretch of the race and was seen to by the medics. It looks pretty gross but is now on the mend.

A week on, I’m still a bit sleepy, but I’m getting there. My appetite is beginning to return to normal. My knees are still sore. Still, I am amazed by how quickly my body is recovering.

And what about mentally?

I couldn’t be happier with my achievement! If I’m honest, I had no idea if I was capable of even finishing. However, I’m not sure if there was ever a moment where I truly thought I was going to drop out. Kirkby Stephen was probably the closest, just because when I was limping around, I just wasn’t sure if I would be able to move fast enough to keep going. But, I kept going, and I am so proud of that!

The love and support I felt from everyone at the checkpoints and dot watching me from home was phenomenal. I think having worked for Ourea, I had the advantage of knowing everyone, which made this experience so special. These weren’t just strangers spurring me on, they were friends, and I am so grateful to each and every one of them!

I wanted an adventure, and an adventure was what I got! I think I will hold on to these memories for a long time to come. Even my lowest moments are something I look back on with fondness, because I was able to push through. I learnt how resilient and strong I could be, and I am so so grateful for this experience. At the end of the day, it is a privilege to be able to do these things.

©My BIB Number photography