I live in Surrey, so in order to make it up to Yorkshire in time for registration, the day began early! The children had to be dropped at a friend's house at 7:30am in order to make the school run, Mother-in-law had to be on duty with the 3rd child (3 year old Weimeraner) and the van had to be loaded with kit/food/drinks/crew before we could hit the road at 8am. I'm a teacher and had kindly been given the day off school - as had both my crew members who also both work in schools. We were a little concerned about the potential traffic en-route as not only was this the start of half-term, but also the Queen's diamond jubilee weekend!
We arrived at the start with nothing to report, as it happens - and one of the first people we met was Pat Mullins, who bowled us over with his friendliness and support. (Thanks Pat!)
After much anticipation, it was good to get started at 5pm, and I ran with a guy I'd met at the briefing (Leo) to the first checkpoint, White Horse, where I found my crew tucking into my carbs!!
After a quick snack I was on my way to Osmotherley - and once again Leo and I stayed together, on a fairly flat stretch. The first relay team passed us here. Night light, hat and gloves had to be donned shortly after Osmotherley as night fell and temperatures dropped.
I'd arranged to meet the crew at Claybank next - but first I had to contend with a number of difficult climbs in the dark. Leo and I parted company here, and a full moon appeared. As I reached the summit of Wainstones I was greeted by a Scottish flag and two very cheery marshalls bearing doughnuts! This was a high point for me - their enthusiasm and good spirits did much to lift mine, and I sailed down to Claybank and greeted my crew with the words "I'm going to nail it on the coastal section!"
I was really looking forward to reaching the Kildale checkpoint a couple of hours later, but when I arrived I found the crew fast asleep and had to bang on the van window to wake them! It was 2:30am and I needed to change my shoes and vaseline my toes. Jonothan directed me to the Kildale village hall kitchen, where I filled up on water, and I was on my way again.
I never met any runners on the way to Roseberry Topping, and wasn't even sure I was on the right track, until I saw runners heading back down towards me. Standing at the bottom of Roseberry Topping once you've run 40 miles feels like standing at the base of Everest, looking at the summit. This was a low point for me - my body was facing a second dawn, having had no sleep inbetween, and having been running for more than 12 hours. I also knew I wasn't even halfway yet.
The biggest, hardest slog for me was from this checkpoint to Saltburn - and to top it all off, I got lost and added about 3 miles to my journey. I'd never felt less like "nailing it" in my life. I arrived in a bad mood, but found my crew in high spirits with hot porridge and much advice.
In my efforts to factor in some sleep for the crew, I'd arranged to meet them next at Runswick Bay, and as a result they were not at the suggested checkpoint of Staithes. In hindsight, this was a mistake, as I could really have done with replenishing my supplies at this point and found it mentally challenging running past other crews here and knowing mine were miles away! (For any other crews reading this blog, take the advice and stop at the suggested CP's!)
This race is a race of two halves - the night section through the moors with tricky navigation and then the daylight hours spent travelling the coastal paths with steep ascents and descents. The stretch between Saltburn and Runswick Bay was difficult - I'd hit a low point at Saltburn, and although it was now daylight and the navigation wasn't a factor - it was a case of self-evaluation and a regrouping of thoughts and motivation. I didn't reach Runswick Bay in the best mental state (appearing not totally compos mentis to the crew!) - but managed to take in some hot food and coffee. The marshall pointed me on my way as crossing the bay is governed by the tide here.
Taking off across the beach did wonders for me - it was exhilirating and brought me back to my roots of running across the beach in South Africa. I reached Sandsend on a real high to find my crew drinking cups of tea and clearly not expecting me! I was feeling really motivated at this point, and didn't stay with them for even a minute.
Again, expecting to meet the crew at Ravenscar, as per my request, I had to run past other crews at Robin Hood's Bay, and found this difficult. Running around these bays allows one a view of what's coming next, and I found the continual descents to sea level and subsequent ascents very demanding. I was using my right leg as a descent leader and then changing to the left for ascent leading, to spread the stress.
Heading into Scarborough from Ravenscar, you can see the Scarborough Headland for many miles/hours away. I knew I was crossing the 100 mile barrier coming into this checkpoint, which I know from experience to be a huge mental milestone. To reach this on tired legs however, and to know I still had another half marathon to go was very different to past races, where 100 miles has been the finish! I realised coming up the path towards the marshall that I'd lost a glove, but the end was in sight and the crew bade me farewell and we set off on our separate routes to Filey.
I knew I was going to make it, but hit a real high at the final self-check point in Filey Brigg. A rambler was standing beside the self-check, and asked me how far I'd just run. I replied "The whole of the Cleveland Way, 110 miles." He replied "Respect, brother! That's a real achievement!"
The final two miles were on pavement along the promenade of Filey bay and into the school. I arrived in the school hall in 11th place, with a time of 28 hours 50 minutes. It was 9:50pm on Saturday night.
Thanks to my crew, without whom it wouldn't have been possible! And also to the race director Jonothan, and all marshalls and volunteers.
Not to be outdone, my crew have also written a race report! Read what they have to say below:
What my crew said:
After waving our runner off, we tootled off to White Horse car park, and were so chuffed with ourselves for finding the first CP that we got too wrapped up with our pot noodles and boiling the kettle - and before we knew it, Dudley turned up. We leapt back into the van once he'd gone and drove off, still nattering away - and then suddenly looked at each other and said "Were we supposed to check in at that checkpoint?" A million things rushed through our minds simultaneously - the worst one being"What if he gets disqualified because his crew forgot to check in at the VERY FIRST checkpoint?!" We realised that we had exactly 2 minutes before the cutoff time at the CP, so back down the steep winding hill we sped, and performed a handbrake turn into the carpark (not really, but we COULD have) and skidded to a halt right in front of the race director, who was having his photo taken with the Olympic flame! "Er...hello..." I said sheepishly. "Were we supposed to check in here?" Jonothan was very kind and reassured us he'd seen us, and we went on our way making mental notes to be a little more switched on!
We went on to Claybank car park, which is where D had asked us to next meet him. For us crew, missing out the next couple of CP's meant we'd be able to get some rest before the long night. (The route to Claybank took us past Rivaulx, which incidentally, is one of the most BEAUTIFUL places on earth) Our van was the only vehicle in the carpark when we got there, (which was quite useful for answering the calls of nature) and feeling rather smug about our navigational skills, just two girls in the wilds of theYorkshire Moors, we pulled down the bed, ate our Maltesers, and tried to get some shut-eye. After lying in silence for a couple of hours, but not actually sleeping, we leapt up around 11:30pm to put the kettle on. It was a little disconcerting seeing we were STILL the only vehicle in Claybank Car park, but yes, we could see a massive sign bearing these three words so we were sure we were in the right place...but then where was everyone else? After a tense 10 minutes, we drove out of the car park to discover all the other supporting vehicles parked in a layby about 20m away! We parked up, nonchalantly, and 5 minutes later our runner turned up, ready for a hot cup of soup, lentils, crisps and pork scratchings.
Once we'd packed him off, we drove down to Kildale, availed ourselves of the facilities at the village hall, and then went off for another hour's kip. It was FREEZING in the van, even in sleeping bags and under a duvet, and we didn't budge until Dudley knocked on the window at 2:30am. Unfortunately, being woken suddenly doesn't tend to agree with me, and when he asked me if I knew where the vaseline was, I grumpily replied "Probably wherever you last put it!" Then when he tried to erect a camping chair beside the van so that he could change his shoes, I snapped at him to "Calm down!" Luckily he's quite accustomed to tuning me out, and Fran was on hand to find vaseline/fill water bottles/administer TLC/ibuprofen and words of encouragement, and once I'd woken up a bit I was quite a lot nicer! After he'd gone we had a cuppa with Jonothan in the hall, ENSURED that we'd shown our faces for check in!! - and picked up the coffee & milk powder which Pat had left behind. Being a support crew on a 24-hour + event is quite surreal at times, and standing in a village hall in the moors munching flapjacks and jelly beans and sipping stewed tea at 3am is definitely not something I'd usually be doing.
Our drive from here to Saltburn was very pretty - dawn was breaking and there were lots of Mommy sheep lying in the middle of the road with their babies huddled up close to them. Upon arrival at the hotel carpark CP, we were greeted by Pat - who, if you haven't met him - is very friendly, no matter what the hour. After a lovely chat, we got into our bed knowing LOTS about Saltburn and the surrounding area (thanks Pat!) and set our alarm for 6am. Luckily there was a loo at this CP, and we were able to wash faces/brush teeth upon waking, and made hot porridge in time for Dudley's arrival. (Actually, Fran and I ate the porridge, but neither of us were able to finish our bowls - so I mixed together the remains of my porridge and the remains of her porridge, presented it to him when he came in and said "We've made you some hot porridge!") He was in a vile mood when he appeared, having become lost and run an extra 3 miles! We sent him on his way with the somewhat inaccurate advice of "It's all downhill from here." After getting Pat to move his car so we could turn the van, and getting the RD to move his car so we could get out of the car park, we were on our way again! This time to Runswick Bay, where we sat in the van eating fruit & nut mix and sniggering about people's parking habits. (Why do people ALWAYS come and park next to you when the rest of the car park is empty?) Our runner turned up looking a little worse for wear here, and cold. We mixed him up a pot noodle, as he wanted something salty, a hotdog and coffee. The marshall pointed him on his way across the sand, and we made our way to Sandsend. Given what he'd looked like at the previous CP, we assumed we had loads of time before he turned up, and went off to get toasties from the local cafe. No sooner had we settled back in the van under the duvet with toasties, cups of tea and Hello mags, than he tapped on the window, having made spectacular time! He didn't stick around longer than a minute, and we were on the road again, this time to Ravenscar.
We waited for what felt like ages here and put away umpteen cups of tea with Hobnobs. After crunching my way loudly through most of Dudley's pork scratchings, I fell asleep. Fran went for a mosey down the coast path, and reported that he was on his way. The wind was so fiercely cold that we set up a camp chair behind the van for Dudley to sit in and shelter for a minute with his hot drink. Fran refilled his water bottles while I passed him a frankfurter sausage -which he promptly regurgitated right between my feet. He was shivering and his scarf and hat were both wet. Fran and I pulled his waterproof trousers over his shoes so that he could pull them over his legs when he took off, in an effort to keep him a bit warmer. As he moved off up the hill, a smartly dressed lady walked past on the pavement and looked me snootily up and down, eyes resting in disgust on the pile of upchucked sausage between my feet. I wanted to say "It wasn't me!"
Then onto Scarborough. We waited here for some time, parked beside the marshall, and watched for Dudley along the coast path. When he came he looked pretty wretched, but was still moving, and we pressed hot sweet coffee and a quartered orange into his hands. The orange made him gag, and as he was shivering so hard, we sent him packing quite quickly, knowing that the next time we'd see him would be the finish. We got to Filey school with time for a quick snooze, and set our alarm for 9:30pm. We then made our way into the bright lights of Filey school hall, where we were distracted by Jonothan and his LEGS doing some stretches - and then got ourselves some crisps, cheese sandwiches, sausage rolls and coffee for sustenance. Just as we were settling into our picnic, IN CAME DUDLEY!! In 11th place. We applauded uproariously and after plying him with food and a hot drink, sent him into the school changerooms to shower and change. The stinky kit was double bagged, and after saying our goodbyes and thankyous to Jonothan and co, we hit the high road back to Surrey. Dudley lay down in the back all the way home, and we arrived just before 4am.
