Bob Graham Round: 5 May 2012
All runners
| # | Pos  |
Name |
Time  |
Cat |
Club |
Pace |
| 1 | 1 | Alan G. Hall | 22:56:16 | V40 | Serpentine | 19:05 |
| 2 | 2 | James Edgar | 23:00:32 | SM | Serpentine | 19:09 |
Race conditions
Clear skies and below zero on the peaks
Report
Alan's Report:
Long ago, before I was a runner, I had heard of a then little-known route (this was long before Askwith's Feet in the Clouds) called the Bob Graham Round. This semi-mythical feat in my beloved Lake District exerted a strong appeal, but after two failed attempts I reluctantly decided a 24 hour Round was beyond a plodder like me and shelved the idea: it doesn't do to get obsessive. But after I took up proper running, after I became a Serpie, I made a deal with myself: go sub 3 on the marathon, and you're allowed another go.
So here I was at the Moot Hall, along with James who had done so much to reignite my enthusiasm for the idea, and Brent and Harold our stage 1 supporters. Pose for a quick photo, then off into the dark. Except it isn't dark because there's a full moon, and on the path up Skiddaw we don't even need our headtorches.
James has wisely instituted a rule that we're not allowed to have fun on the downhills until Scafell. So we descend the frosty grass behind Skiddaw quickly but sensibly. Even so, each of us at least once catches a foot on a tussock and somersaults back into our stride. We wonder guiltily if this is too much like having fun. The descent of Hall's Fell is similarly rapid: for once, the rocks are bone dry and we can bounce down them with confidence. I am glad of the super-powerful headtorch Marie has loaned me.
At the bottom I see Graham running into the road brandishing what is apparently a flame-thrower. I wonder vaguely why he has brought an MSR instead of one of those nice safe sensible little camping gas stoves. It turns out that it was a gas stove but the gas was burning where no gas should be. Despite this excitement a mug of steaming coffee somehow appears and I am ushered to a chair where I am wrapped in a blanket and given a plate of food. And here are Anja and Nick to support us on stage 2.
The Helvellyn ridge on this clear, cold night is a fairytale. As we crest the brow of Clough Head the enormous full moon reveals itself hanging over the mountain. Away over Carlisle the first faint pinkness of dawn is appearing: a dawn that will break an hour later to reveal the entire Lake District in all its glory. The running is easy and even at a properly conservative pace we are snipping away minutes from the schedule. Fell running doesn't get much better than this. We even make light work of the steep climb up to Fairfield, this section's sting in the tail, after which a good line off Seat Sandal led by Harold nets us some more valuable minutes.
Refuelled once again at Dunmail Raise I set off up Steel Fell, very conscious that the last six times I have set out to do stage 3, I have failed even to complete this stage (though there were various extenuating circumstances, such as snow). James and I had both acknowledged that the only way we stood a chance of a round would be if we got perfect weather on the day. Well, now we have. That night was long and cold, it is true, but bearably so, and now the sun is properly up it is turning into one of those rare days when treading the summits is a carefree joy. And it's not going to get hot, either: for a runner, this is as good as it gets. We'll have loads of support on this section, too: Phil, Andrew and Richard are all joining us here. Plus we have the benefit of Wes who is not only an amazingly strong runner but has a natural mountaineer's eye for the best line through bogs and boulders. This stage has a lot of bogs and boulders, and his leadership here will stand us in good stead.
So off we go through the heart of Lakeland on this glorious day. Legs are still reasonably strong, and the scheduled times between peaks that seemed impossibly demanding on our poor-weather recces are suddenly achievable. And so to Scafell Pike, where James's and my ways part: I will take Broad Stand while he goes via Fox's Tarn, and we have enough supporters to be independent from here on.
On Broad Stand, my walking club friends are waiting for me. I had confidently assured them that there was no risk at all of my being ahead of schedule here. But ahead is what I am, by some half an hour, and they are fully prepared and grinning with delight to see me going so well. A clenched fist salute from Keith atop a high crag. Through the narrow gap into the climb I go, and ropework is handled for me with seamless efficiency. Richard straps a harness round me, instructions are called to Claire on the belay above, and I am climbing round the first easy corner. A couple of deep breaths at the bottom of the difficult wall. My usual technique here involves a desperate heave-ho and a lot of ungainly scrabbling, but today somehow I am a gymnast. A power pull up, a clean move off the right hand wall, and I'm safely over the rim. Keith accompanies me the rest of the way up Scafell. From which the descent is almost fun.
But at the bottom – no support car! Where are Marie and Graham? I send scouts from James's crew to look for them, not really thinking that the scouts don't actually know what Marie and Graham look like. But in the mean time, never fear, Alex is here. He plies me with tea and sustenance, and Mathew and Kate have arrived separately to support me on the next stage with spare energy drink and cheesy biscuits, so all is well.
From now on, I will be in the hands of experienced mountaineers used to much bigger mountains. This is reassuring in my now weakening state. But actually the ascent of Yewbarrow, one of the notorious crunch points on the BG, is not that bad and we gain time on it. The weather is still being kind and the Mosedale Horseshoe, one of the grandest but sometimes overlooked corners of the Lake District, can be appreciated to good effect. There is moral support to raise my spirits too: Jen has come up to Black Sail Pass and as we approach Grey Knotts across the plateau from Brandreth, cheering breaks out in the distance from a whole gang of Serpies gathered there. Down to Honister where this time I make successful rendezvous with Marie and Graham to be refueled for the next – and last! - stage. Another 15 minutes up on schedule, and as we leave the checkpoint we see James and his supporters descending not far behind. This is really going to happen for both of us: it will be robbery if we don't succeed now.
They say everybody has a low point somewhere on the BG. I was fortunate indeed that mine didn't really come until the very last stretch down Newlands Valley, after I was already safely off the hill – in fact, up until then I had got off very lightly indeed. I had been fading throughout the stage but had managed to keep going, slow but steady, in Keith and Claire's capable hands. No need to rush now. Don't do anything stupid and throw it away. Just enjoy the slow jogging on the grassy paths over these final rounded hills, and the evening sunlight picking out those crags across the valley. But once down the bottom, the turmoil in my stomach which had been grumbling most of the day rose up and all but prevented any running at all. The physical nadir was of course counterbalanced by the emotional high. Mathew and Kate and Anja had all rejoined us so I was surrounded by dear friends spanning two decades. No matter that I could hardly get a sentence out without going into a paroxysm of coughing, or that when I wasn't hiccupping or belching disgustingly I was emitting plaintiff little groans. We all knew that I was going to make it and our ramble over the fields and through the woods was a happy one.
With a mile to go, I started to run again. The walk break had settled my stomach somewhat and I found I could hold a reasonable jog together over the suspension bridge and all the way along the trail to the outskirts of Keswick. Someone mentions that I might now even beat 23 hours. This possibility has occurred to me. And now I am on the High Street. There is the Moot Hall. A shiver goes down my spine and I step on the gas, discovering that there is actually a tiny bit of gas left that my body had been keeping for this moment. With a sudden lightness in my legs I surge forward, feeling more as if this is the finish of a 10k than the end of an ultra. The large reception party have spotted me and tremendous cheering erupts. A final triumphant charge up the street to touch the Moot Hall. Remember to press STOP rather than LAP this time. My legs have stopped and so have the digits: they read 22:56:16. I've done it.
There are lots of hugs. Everyone here is as pleased for me as I am myself and everyone has helped in some vital way so truly it is their achievement too. But there's more drama to come. My arrival coincides with the start of somebody else's attempt. The outgoing contender, grinning from ear to ear, pumps my hand in mid stride as he sets off. It feels like handing over a relay baton; I send him on his way with my best wishes. And there's more – another runner has been spotted down the street. It's James! He has had a strong stage 5 and he too is coming in for a sprint finish. Two out of two.
Marie, Graham and Anja take me back to the hostel and look after me with tender loving care in my now infantile state. They get some food and drink into me and pack me off for a HOT shower and bed. I sleep, very well indeed. The next day, the support crew go for a walk up Skiddaw. Much as I'd like to join them, I make my excuses and go to the pencil museum instead.
I cannot think of a better way to spend a weekend.
James’s report:
Attempt begun at 11pm 4th May 2012; James Edgar completed just after 10pm on 5th May 2012 (23 hours, zero minutes, and 32 seconds)
I’m not sure I can describe our successful Bob Graham Round in 500 words. I have written a blog which probably stretches to a book now about the two years of endeavour towards this magnificent challenge; attempting to explain why I was doing it and how. From personal crisis to a perfect day on the fells with 29 friends, this is my story of what a challenge like the Bob Graham can do for you. The blog can be found at: http://runthelakes.blog.co.uk/
In short, the weather was sublime – the forecast beforehand said “Visibility Virtually Unlimited”. We had a full moon at perigee to night navigate by, no wind of any consequence except on Skiddaw (where there is always wind), and a cloudless day but with no heat to sap the energy. And underfoot absolutely bone dry, with boulder hopping a doddle.
Alan Hall and I are members of the Serpentine Running Club in London, and have sometimes felt like we were taking on someone else’s terrain as we’ve recced the route out over numerous fun weekends in the Lakes. But gradually we have got to know every inch of the round, and used all our knowledge on the day to optimise lines all throughout. We set off together and with a huge team of friends and clubmates to see us round, having shared the adventure widely. Our supporters were stunning, with not a single navigation mistake made all day.
The night was perfect, the moon so bright we turned out headtorches off. On Helvellyn Ridge it was bitingly cold just before dawn but a magnificent sunrise took our minds off the cold. A German friend who runs in the alps said this was the most beautiful sight she had seen, and her favourite run.
As the day went on it only warmed up a few degrees so was perfect running weather. Alan and I stayed together, with our respective support teams, until Scafell Pike where he went over Broad Stand and I took the traverse path to Foxes Tarn. To my surprise I only lost a couple of minutes though he made more on the Scafell descent. We both had aimed for a 23 hour schedule in the hope of getting under the 24 hours, and were now well up on time.
Stage 4 was mostly a walk in the afternoon sunshine, chatting and burping my way towards the end (food intake was the hardest challenge of the day). As we climed Yewbarrow my supporter on this stage, Paul, asked me and my other supporter to be an usher as his forthcoming wedding. A lovely honour and this helped us to the top of Yewbarrow five minutes faster than schedule.
Eventually I reached stage 5 with four hours to spare and we made a happy band walking over the final three fells in a glorious sunset. The run in to Keswick with more and more friends joining us was the end of a two year journey which will be with me for the rest of my life. Through writing the blog I have been raising awareness of Mind, the Mental Health charity and the importance of talking honestly with one another about our fears and hopes, our successes and failures. Thank you all those involved with the Bob Graham club for raising the profile of the round, and sharing your love of running over the fells.
http://www.time-to-change.org.uk/timetotalk
Race helpers
Alex, Brent, Jany, Harold, Nick x 2, Anja, Andrew, Wes, Phil, Richard x 2, Cath, Paul, Mike, Mathew, Kate, Keith, Claire, Helen, Lars II, Nat, Poppy, Jen, Darren, Mariana, Deedee, Marie and Graham
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