Totally sensible and not at all insane ultra marathons with strangers… It started, as all good stories should, on the side of a Munro. With three days of thunder storms expected to start at noon, the only sensible thing to do was to try and get a couple of summits under the belt before then. Having tagged Stob Coire Raineach, I started across the ridge to Stob Dubh only to find someone else had the same idea. We got chatting and our individual short runs became a six hour day of mountains and valleys. Every step seemed to give a new vista, a breathtaking highlights reel of what Scotland can offer. Camping in the same spot, we made plans to sit out the bad weather and do our normal day jobs in a pub the next day. Of course, laptops open, the occasional chat may* have happened about what to... View Article
I’d like the record to show there was a moment at the Ennerdale Horseshoe when I overtook Brennan Townshend. Unfortunately it was before the race started—he was jogging his warm up, I was legging it from the car park to try and register and go to the loo. Suffice to say once the race started I never saw him again. The Ennerdale is one of the Lake District Classics, a 37km/23 mile circuit of the fells surrounding one of the most beautiful valleys in the Lakes. It’s been ran for over fifty years and is steeped in the mythos of the sport. The list of winners reads like a who’s who of fell running greats; Joss Naylor, Kenny Stuart, Billy Bland. I was excited to be pulling on the purple and green of Northumberland Fell Runners for the first time, and after so many cancellations in the past eighteen months... View Article
It was wet. I remember that much. Rain thumping on the canvas like a regiment of drummers beating a heady tattoo. North of the tent lay the brooding mass of Liathach. I sat, crouched over my phone, watching YouTube videos of the traverse. It’s hard to know where to start describing Liathach. It’s the kind of mountain legends are made from and, from the road it towers over, it looks impregnable. It rises at what seems an impossible angle, more fortress than hill. Songs have been written about her and the An Fasarinen pinnacles are infamous in their own right. I never did get to climb her that first trip to Torridon. I’d ran Beinn Alligin on arrival. It’s a steep monster in its own right, home to the wonderfully named Eag Dhubh nah-Eigheachd – ‘the black gash of the wailing’. After that the weather closed in. Liathach’s pinnacles look... View Article
Racing. It’s been a ruddy long time coming. Aside from virtual events, I only raced twice last year and neither was the type of race I was used to. The road races over familiar distances that form the staple of so many runner’s routines were all cancelled. My last half on the road was the Great North Run in 2019 where, after an injury lay off, I was pretty disappointed with my time. At the very end of 2019 I decided to prove myself and ran what I thought would probably be a lifetime best – ragging myself on a windy day up the North Tyneside Coast. I’d just squeaked in under what was for me a landmark target and accepted that it was all I had for the distance, and maybe all I ever would. With lockdown easing the last few weeks has seen the diary for the year... View Article
It’s been a long winter. On January 16th, Nirmal Purja claimed the first winter assent of K2. Meanwhile, we’ve all been under a stay at home order for the best part of four months. Now, I’m not saying that without the lockdown I’d have summited K2 this winter, but I had some good winter climbs planned. Instead, without mountains on the doorstep, we had to sit and watch perfect winter conditions come and go. Last week, with the stay at home order finally lifted and after a four month absence, it was time to return to the Lakes. I checked MWIS, set my slack status to ‘Der Berg Ruft‘ and headed for the hills. I wrote a couple of weeks ago about the dream of doing the Bob Graham round and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to reconnoitre part of the route. I’d planned an out and back covering... View Article
I can’t remember when I first heard of the Bob Graham round, but I can remember thinking how utterly absurd it was and that I’d never be able to take on a challenge like that. 42 fells, 106km, roughly the height of Everest (from sea level) in ascent. And 24 hours to get round. Truth be told, I still think it’s a bit bonkers and am not entirely convinced I’ll ever be able to take on a challenge like that. And that’s why I’m writing about it really. Because over the course of the last year that dream has become both more tangible and more impossible. I’ve got a bit more experience, done a couple of longer distance runs, and a few days of back to back Munros. Got some elevation in my legs. Last summer I became fitter than I’d ever been. I did the Abraham’s Tea Round and... View Article
October 18, 2020,
by Pete
It was about lunchtime, wandering along the Silent Valley, when Bearnagh first caught my eye. I’d crossed the dam, enjoying the views, when the sunlight poked through and danced across the summit tor. I turned and ran back to my viewpoint to get a photo. Slieve Bearnagh. I knew I’d be climbing her twice the next morning and was enraptured. Reinhold Messner once said: “The most beautiful mountain in the world is not the highest, or the most difficult. It is personal. It is always the one I am currently dreaming about.” By that standard, she was the most beautiful mountain in the world that day. I was in Northern Ireland for the Mourne Skyline race but the trip wasn’t exactly going to plan. I’d flown out on Wednesday only for Stormont to vote on a new lockdown and the race to get cancelled. It was the right decision, but... View Article
Three weeks ago, head hung low, trudging defeated back into Wooler, I pronounced my ultra running attempts for the year done. The stance had softened slightly when I blogged about it later that week, but I still had no intention of attempting another any time soon. I wasn’t lying, I just lacked foresight. A week later, my phone buzzed with a message from a mate: “Fancy that ultra on 3 Oct?” We text back and forth a bit and then next thing you know we’re booked on with only six days to prepare. I’m not sure that’s how you’re supposed to go about these things but hey, it’s 2020. Nothing’s exactly happening as it’s supposed to. We’d both been intending to do this event in April when it was cancelled, and had kept weekly mileage good. It was too tempting to have a race on our doorstep and not go... View Article
September 16, 2020,
by Pete
The first thing I noticed, parked up at Wooler war memorial, was the three OMM stickers on the car in front. Whoever was in there was obviously the real deal. People who do the OMM are a different breed. Nothing like starting a big day with a slice of humble pie. I was there because the ever changing landscape of quarantine and corona has seen me miss out on two ultras this year; I’d decided to make use of my training. The Cheviots are my local hills. They’re home to the Chevy Chase, possibly my favourite race, and the High Fells of Hedgehope, which featured the most hostile weather I’ve ran in. They’re also home to The McWilliams Round, which comes in three flavours. The short, clocking in at 32 miles (yes, that’s the short one!), the long, at 43 miles, and the ultra which is both of them back... View Article
It’s 5:40am and I’ve already been awake for some time. I give up on waiting for the alarm and pick up my phone to check the MWIS forecast. Rain with a side order of cloudy summits. Quelle surprise. The question is; go or no go? The answer was never in doubt. I tumble out of bed and get ready, making a bowl of porridge and chatting to my housemate about the route. He wants to know if I don’t come home which hill I’ll have fallen off. He also wants to know where my life insurance forms are. Unrelated, I assume. A couple of hours later and I’m standing outside the doors of George Fisher, ready to go. After a disastrous day in the fells last July, I have some business to finish with the Abraham’s Tea Round today. The conditions are perfect running out of Keswick, through Portinscale, to Cat Bells. It doesn’t... View Article
