I hope you are in fine spring form and enjoying the bank holiday weather (sunshine, at last!)
Potentially the shortest blog ever. If I wrote this twaddle a bit more frequently, it might be a bit less of a sprawling waffle-on-a-thon!
Since the last episode, only one thing has been on my mind…
Cold Bounty Chops
2025 heatwave.
2026 (weekend before the heatwave!)
Never before have I had a single race event stress/worry/keep me awake/be on my thoughts constantly, than the Old County Tops.
The OCT is a 35-37 mile/58km in new money (depending on route choice) fell race run in pairs, scaling the 3 highest points in the old/new/current in Cumbria as was/as is. (Don’t get me started on my Cumbria rant!)
The jaunt commences in Great Langdale at 8am, the OCT trots over Red Bank to Grasmere, up to Helvellyn (Westmorland), down to Thirlmere and up Wythburn (pronounced Wye-burn), up to an all important cut-off checkpoint at Angle Tarn, which has to be reached by 1:30pm. Providing you get under that cut-off, you can carry on up to Esk Hause and teeter along the rocky ridge to Scafell Pike (summit of Cumberland sausages and wrestling), also the highest point in England, then plummets down to Great Moss and another all important cut-off (4:30pm) at Cockley Beck, which is an unusual checkpoint for a fell race as there is a veritable banquet to be had, as a prelude to a slog up the back side of Grey Friar, resisting the temptation to mount/steal the fell pony on the out and back to Coniston Old Man (Lancashire highpoint, NOT Furness). Thank you Raych 🙂
Then it’s a simple case of floating down to the Three Shires Stone, down the Wrynose Pass road towards Little Langdale and then cutting round the back of Blea Tarn and finally, back to the start in Great Langdale. If you get in under 12hrs, you get a t-shirt and a cup of soup for your efforts!
Bizarre that I overthought this race so much, as I ran it last year without problem on a glorious sunny day, off my nut on excessive carbs and gels and basically don’t remember much about it, so it is a good job I made this amateur video .
This year the main reason I felt distinctly underarmed was the fact that the wheels fell off my 2025 season with injury in August, illness followed all November and a brief comeback before my snout operation in February. I only had one Lakes race (Teenager with Altitude) which put me firmly in the bin 4 weeks before OCT.
On top of all those woes, my partner John, had trained and raced like a Trojan all winter and spring. No pressure!
As the foundations of my season were built on quicksand, I was rather apprehensive going into the race.
The major plus point was my partner, John, a mate who I have run a lot with. We are similar levels, he is a very funny guy, is unoffendable and is ex-army and an A&E nurse, so if I did fall and split my head into pieces, he wouldn’t flap and would be able to patch me up. As the race is in pairs, (unless you are chasing for podium), I think partner choice is paramount, as you both need to get round supporting each other and look after each other, whether that is with a stick, a carrot or light heated pi$$ taking, whatever works for you.
The A66 is normally a fast track route to the North Lakes and a longer but quicker route to central/south Lakes, but on the Friday lunchtime it was basically a limping chaos resembling a car park. 4.5 hours door to door was not a good start!
Home for 2 nights.
I won’t bore you with a blow-by-blow-step-by-step account, but the weather started fine and turned iffy later on. John and I talked absolute nonsense all the way round 🙂
My most overused quote of the day was “I don’t remember this bit John!” All was going well until Cockley Beck, in time, beating the cut offs, eating and drinking, then GREY FRIAR…
Cockley Beck is a kind of last chance saloon. If you have burnt all your candles and matches by this point (or you are timed out), you turn left and after a lot of yomping (or a lucky thumb catching the eye of a motorist not bothered about ther car interior) you’re back at the start.
The temptation is to eat your bodyweight in sarnies and tea, delaying the inevitable, but the show must go on…
I made the mistake of thinking we were homeward bound but CB is about 15 miles from the end and you are going away from the finish. The rain started, we were heading into the clag and the wind was rising as quickly as the temperature was dropping. In fell races one needs to carry enough kit to survive (full body cover waterproofs, hat, gloves, map, compass, whistle and some food). As someone who loves the heat and is absolutely pathetic in the cold, I always have a fear of having all my kit on, then having a fall/crash/injury. Keeping warm is a marginal thing in crappy weather, keeping moving quickly enough to generate heat. Communication was hindered as we headed into the wind and rain. I kept thinking to myself, “Don’t trip up, don’t get split up and don’t mess up!”
Visibility was down to about 20 yards, and other teams were coming and going and appearing and vanishing in the fog.
John had the “lines” absolutely dialled in, so that we actually leapfrogged some teams when we dropped out of the clag down to the Three Shires Stone. We passed a few cars and must have been a pretty poor advert for fellrunning as we hobbled down the road to the Blea Tarn turn off 🙂 Time pressure was off, the rain had stopped, so it was just a case of plummeting down to the finish and then being grateful to stop running!
During the race we had both said “We aren’t coming back here next year“.
24hrs later we were talking about entering in 2027!
How selective is a fellrunner’s memory 🙂
A brilliant day out superbly organised by ARCC, mega friendly marshals, classic route and good to see a lot of old friends and make new ones 🙂
(Thank you to Colin Brearley, John Whisper and JM for the pics!)
Raiders round-up
4 wins out of the last 5 games (despite the comeback of all comebacks by feisty Hunslet) leave the mighty Shipbuilders in 4th spot in the league.
With 4 points covering 2nd to 7th position and London only clear by 2 points, it is still wide open.
COYR!!!
And finally…
One of my childhood memories shattered! The Mice on Bagpuss singing “We will fix it…”
That’s all for now folks! Hasta la proxima. Johnny
I hope you are in finest springtime form and fettle. Bit of a a lag between blogs this year. Here is the latest wrap-up of cock-ups and calamaties that I call life!
Marching into spring.
Always good to get bloody winter out of the way!
Spent a fairly pointless but nontheless interesting day at the Commercial Vehicle Show at the NEC (work, don’t ask!)
Got out for a curry with the Zoom Boys.
Marshalled at a Hardmoors race, I love marshalling!
My friend and work partner, “Pink Lynne” left the BL.
And, the youngster turned 12 🙂
OCT
When did life become a jumble of acronymns?
Less than 2 weeks until the OCT (Old County Tops), a 3 mile jaunt up and over the 3 highest points of what was the old counties, but is now kind of the new/modern/actual counties (after the abolition of Cumbria 3 years ago, but I won’t start on that rant here!)
Starting in Great Langdale, the Old County Tops runs/jogs/walks/flouders over the tops to Grasmere and up Helvellyn (Westmorland), down to the end of Thirlmere, up Wythburn (pronounced “Wy-burn”) over to Angle Tarn (checkpoint cut-off anxiety) over Esk Hause along the pointy ridge to Scafell Pike (Cumberland, but sadly no sausages, nor wrestling on the day), down the steep backside to soggy Mosedale and to the best feed station in fellrunning (perhaps the only feed station in fellrunning) at Cockley Beck, where after scoffing 15 egg, cheese and tuna sandwiches and half a dozen cups of tea, a grunt and a gurn around the back of Grey Friar to Coniston Old Man (Furness) and a downhill float back to the start/finish at Great Langdale. A grand day out!
Last year I had one of the best races/days out on the fells of my life. Me and my good mate John (for it is a race run in pairs), the best weather imaginable, I was off my head on excessive carbs/caffeine and an it was absolute joy of a day.
This year, after being injured from last August to autumn, then ill for a month, and then slowly coming back to semi-fitness, then setback by an operation which manifested a panicfest that I haven’t really got any mileage nor climbing in my legs, (as I haven’t!) A polar opposite contrast to last year.
This year, apart from a brilliant (very, very early) morning out around Ripon with my friend Victoria, who was salvaging a long distance after the Coast-to-coast race was cancelled after the race company imploded and a couple of fell races with Lina (Hoofstones and Wardle Skyline).
Lina ran a good race at Ilkley Moor on her own after I was recovering from my nose job op).
I still felt underarmed, so against my better judgement, 2 minutes before the entries closed on the Friday, I entered the…
TWA
The Anniversary Waltz was a brilliant race organised by a man called Steve Cliff, to commemorate his wedding anniversary. When Cliff sadly passed away in 2018, it was renamed as the Newlands Memorial fell race. On the very same day, organised by the same people (CFR – Cumberland Fell Runners), is a very different beast of a race, the TWA (Teenager With Altitude). NMFR – 11.5 miles/3600ft of ascent TWA – 15 miles/7456ft of ascent
The big difference is the start! The Newlands Memorial flies up the valley at a rate of knots, until the first big climb up Robinson. The Teenager goes straight up the side of Causey Pike. “On your marks, get set, walk…”
From Causey Pike it goes to Outerside, Grasmoor, Whiteless Pike, d-o-w-n to the valley bottom, cross the river, then up the other side to Newland Hause, then High Snockrigg, then joining the NMFR rout, up and over Robinson, Himdscarth, Dale Head, High Spy, Catbells before a final plummet down to the finish.
Simple.
My thighs did not work for a week afterwards!
Doubly compounded by the fact that my partner John lives in the Lakes and has been training/racing like a Trojan all autumn/winter/spring dawned the already realised realisation that (no matter how many grams of carbs I can eat, snort, shove up my backside) it is going to be a tough day out which led to an all-out panic. A good mate of mine settled my nerves and I am now in the “better to arrive at the start line unfit but uninjured, than to not reach the start line” camp.
Watch this space 🙂
A tale of 4 compasses
Next time.
Raider’s round-up
The mighty Shipbuilders were lying third in the table, behind London Broncos and Newcastle Thunder, having only lost 2 games this season! Phenomenal 🙂 Until Oldham turned us over at Home 😦 Now there are 4 teams on the same points, but London look to be running away with it, after recently putting 70 points past Goole.
Can our flying winger reproduce this kind of form?
COYR!!!
And finally
At the turn of the century (a term which makes me feel ancient) around the time when we all thought the world would end 60 seconds after 23:59 on New Year’s Eve) on my second stint at the British Library, I stumbled across a book called “Into the Wild” (ITW) by Jon Krakauer. I had already read his epic “Into Thin Air” (ITA) about the 1996 Everest disaster and “Eiger Dreams”, (ED) but ITW was different.
Without giving the story away, it recounts the incredible true story of Chris McCandless, a young man who simply went into the wild.
A brilliant book, made into an equally brilliant film by Sean Penn.
Fast forward to 2007, I landed what looked like a dream job on paper (which turned out to be a nightmarish job in real life) working for the same volunteer travel company that I had first gone to Peru with, in 2004. The less said the better about the job, but perhaps the one perk that became of it, was a 3 week trip to Honduras as Project Leader/Translator for a Community Development project supervising 32 Alaskan students, aged 16-18. It was a tough old time, but between us we managed to build a house (which I believe is still standing) and renovate an orphanage.
(Not the actual house, but I have no photos and this was the only royalty free pic of an adobe brick house).
For kids of their age, their gritty determination and attitude/maturity was impressive. One of the 2 teachers present said it was due to their upbringing in Alaska, “The Last Frontier”, the 49th state.
The group were from Fairbanks, very close to where ITW was centred, but their thoughts towards Chris McCandless were very dismissive, “He was an idiot” was the general consensus.
A chance conversation recently led me to reread Into The Wild and I don’t agree with the above, but if you haven’t already read it, I will let you make your own mind up 🙂
Happy New Year, in March! (What date is allowable to say HNY? Probably about 2months ago. Started writing this in November!) When I get my annual WordPress bill, I always think I should be trawling out one of these a month. Unfortunately, events have got in the way of late. Without further adieu or needless waffle, here is the random round-up that is the blog!
On the Pat and Mick!
First time off sick in 32 years! Long story short, minor operation necessitated some time off work.
Back in the heady days of the turn of the century, we had a work Rugby League team and played in the Civil Service cup. From a workforce of 1200 people we could never really find 13 willing and able players, so had to resort to the occasional “ringer”. There were half a dozen lads who played on a regular basis, a handful who were “persuaded” and then some “borrowed”.
The problem was that we would be drawn against really, really good teams (Various prison services and the infamous “North West”, who was basically every hardman from Carlisle to Liverpool. Other teams were thinly veiled (decent level) amateur sides, such was the case with Halifax Post Office, who were in essence, Siddall RLFC, who were a bunch of junkyard dogs, out to rough up some Librarians! (If I am brutally honest, our main motive for playing was to get time off work and then go out on the lash, starting in the ludicrously cheap Library bar!)
The last game…
Kick-off, away at Halifax Post Office, on the side of a windswept uphill pitch, somewhere in the Calder Valley. A pitch so steep that the ball rolled downhill. The ball goes up, I am lookimg up, it falls into my awaiting arms and BANG. The Halifax centre’s forearm rearranges my nose, and I spend a few miniutes with birds flying round my head, before going off for 5 minutes feeling a bit dizzy. Later on in the game, I managed to bend a finger on my left hand right back to the back of my hand, and snapped a flexor tendon, which essentially ended my short and unillustrious RL career, and it was the last ever game for the British Library BLSSC! At the time I didn’t realise the extent of the nose injury as I had to have an operation on my hand, resulting in a kind of fibreglass scaffolding for 6 weeks. My nose hurt, but noses do hurt when you bang them.
Fast forward to 2026. After 25 years of not being able to breathe through my right nostril (and not much better on the left), a doctor suggested a Septoplasty. Straightening of my z-shaped septum. Not a big op, but one which I needed to rest after, and resting is not my forte. 3 weeks off and I have been climbing the walls! Back to work today. If I can’t run, I’ll do some weights, if I can’t do weights, I’ll cycle, if I can’t do any of these (last resort), I’ll go swimming, when I can’t swim either, I go a bit mad! As is always the case, (with perpetually being “on the comeback”), I was just starting to feel a bit of fitness coming through before my op. Back to square one. A lot of work to do before the Old County Tops. I am officially, the World’s most impatient patient!
Training isn’t everything in the world, but time off makes me realise it’s a bloody big part of it. Back to it, plus a serious crack at this too.
2025 Highs and Lows.
Highs: Giant’s Tooth kickstarting the season Beater Clough route awesomeness.
Old County Tops carbo-buzzing with my mate John.
Felix’s big BGR day out with the Green Machine (and 3 runners twice my speed and half my age!)
Wasdale heatwave Scorchio 🙂
Lows: September to December (apart from the below).
Silent Night
It is very easy to fall into the comfort zone each year of doing the same stuff. A comment on a Whatsapp chat gave the opportunity of a mini adventure to the wilderness around St. John’s Chapel, County Durham. An area I had never been to before and knew nothing about.
The Chapelfelltop fell race is a short fell race run in summer. The Silent Night fell race is the same race, run in winter, at night!
Generally the lowest attendance fell race in the calendar due to it’s timing (last Friday before Christmas) and remote location, however the cast of OTBF podcast swelled pre-entries to double figures and on the night, 18 hardy souls started out, into the soggy bleak and inky blackness.
Despite an afternoon recce, I made a complete pig’s ear of the navigation, not only getting myself lost, but also leading a fellow competitor astray (never trust anyone who says “I know the way”, especially if they are wearing a claret coloured vest with a gold stripe across their chest!)
The local legend, Chris Alborough and Charlie Barker of Tetley FC.
It was my first race since August, post injury, post lurgy, post not a lot of running and was my first ever last place!
I did win a box of mince pies however.
We (Charlie Barker, race winner Chris Larking and Max from CVFR) dossed down in the village hall and the next day, Charlie and I talked non-stop all the way back to Steel City. Charlie had travelled up from Devon on public transport and horseback.
A cracking race organised by DFR, I’ll be back!
Feliz Navidad!
I was a bit lost in time in December and thought I had one more weekend to get ready (I didn’t), so the big day inexoribly crept up and arrived.
My Mum and Dad cooked an amazing Christmas Dinner for 19 people! I couldn’t make cup-a-soup for 19 people. I am not a massive Christmas fan. but this one was ace 🙂
It was also ace to have Jimbo and the Crazy Gang back for a few weeks too 🙂
T’Lakes
Early morning Boxing day saw us heading west across the A66 to the Lakes for a whistle stop day trip to Keswick and Ambleside. (Lina’s mum was visiting Blighty so I was keen to show her the best bits).
A bluebird day, with 1000 miles visibility and reduced gravitational pull, due to the moon being in Jupiter.
The Moot Hall in Keswick is a bit of a magical place, especially if you are a fellrunner.
It is the start and finish of The Bob Graham Round (a sub-24hr challenge trotting round 42 fine fells).
I did my round in 2009 (and was very glad to see the hall at the end!) In June I supported a friend, a young flying machine from Dark Peak by the name of Felix, on his round in June and it was one of my top 3 days out in 2025, running myself absolutely into the ground to keep up. Immediately after Felix’s round, I bumped into 2 running friends, Cherry B and Rose G, both unconnected to each other and both unconnected with the round on the day.
So, on Boxing Day, to bump into Les and Sharon, who I had not seen for 13 years outside the hall and then my BGR partner, Glen, and his wife Gill, 5 minutes later, on the other side of the hall, shows the mad coincidences that can happen in Keswick!
The compass is always right!
After years of threatening to do some orienteering, I actaully did some. A local club (Eborienteers) put on an “urban” event between Christmas and New Year, where I got very lost in New Earswick. Then I progressed to a low key night event (and got round) and then pinnacled in the NE Night Championships up in the North East, running round a forest in the dark somewhere near Middlesborough on a Saturday night. Mega friendly people and something I can only get better at! The friendliness, enthusiasm and welcome of the people and the sport is amazing. Looking forward to doing some more and getting less lost!
Bilberry Fields forever
A number of years ago, when I was a less travelled man, I once got a lift across the border off a mate from Halifax to Horwich, (naturally passing through nearby Westhoughton, to pay respect to Robert Shaw). I did not know what lay further up the Calder Valley, past Hebden Bridge. It was like a Pennine Northwest passage. Would we simply go off the edge of the map into unchartered monochrome nothingness? Quite the opposite, soon after Hebden Bridge (which is lovely but can feel a bit up itself at times) is my new favourtiest spot, Todmorden. A town of strong community, it was a huge part of the Industrial Revolution, is home to the INCREDIBLE EDIBLE PROJECT, it is the Pennine Centre for UFO sightings and infamous for a suspect GP, who we won’t mention! In summary, Todmorden is a cracking corner of the county (West Yorkshire/East Lancashire), with numerous hills to run up and down on both sides of the steep sided valley.
If I could move from Tad to Tod, (i,e. manage the commute to work, which I couldn’t), I would move there in a heartbeat!
Bilberry Fields is a brilliant low key fell race: a 5 mile up and down, up and down, up and down post Christmas/pre New Year outing. Leaving Lina’s mum and Valentina in nearby Hebden Bridge (they were soon lured by the bright lights of Todmorden and caught the bus up the valley), I had a run round with Lina, her second time racing here (mine too), both of us forgetting about that last climb!
A freefall descent to the finish and then a traipse across a contender for Yorkshire’s boggiest field. A grand day out! Shout out to Doni and to DT.
A tale of 4 compasses/pride comes before a fall…
Next time.
Spineless?
Next time.
Raiders round-up
I wish I had scribbled this blog a few weeks ago! In our first 6 games we scored 278 points, and conceded only 38. Then we got beaten by newly promoted York in the cup (which form stands up as they beat Hull KR in their first game, who then beat Brisbane Broncos, bonkers!) Which makes us the 4th best team in the world 🙂
In the league, it appears that the Flat Cappers of Featherstone Rovers and Halifax Panthers have both gone into administration, which is a great shame. I don’t know what direction the sport is going in right now, but hoping for a strong show from the Shipbuilders this season!
From eBay to Vinted.
The obsession switches. Since 2006 I have tried to make money whilst skint by saving up for something I really want, then realise I cannot afford/justify it, then sell it for a loss.
Buy high, sell low!
Not a sustainable nor recommendable business model.
eBay traffic has been gradually slowing with the progression of Vinted and has now practically dried up.
Vinted is akin to selling individual items at a Car Boot Sale.
(Item for £5) Buyer: “I’ll give you 20p”
It is a good way to get rid of clothes that one no longer wears/uses/wants. It reduces the amount of items going to landfill. As a buyer, there are some absolute bargains. As a seller, get ready for some outrageous(ly) low offers, which you will eventually be forced to accept as (at a time when eveything new is at an all-time high), second hand value is rock bottom.
Don’t even get me started on “New without tags”. One guy was selling a pair of running shoes “Only done 600km, but think they may be too small”. NWOT and original box!
Good natured recycling 🙂 And it is always good fun guessing which InPost locker is going to open!
And finally
28 days later – 28 weeks later – 28 years later – The Bone Temple.
For the record, I am not a horror film fan, they scare me whitless and give me nightmares, but I do have a morbid fascination for this saga.
I was forced (!) to watch 28 days later in a windswept barn in windy, windy Patagonia, when the wind threatened to rip the roof off at a very tense moment. (Did I mention that it is windy in Patagonia)
I won’t bore you with the story, but I could have been in this film!
28 years later was a classic, not an emotional rollercoaster, it was more akin to a nervous breakdown interspersed with fleeting moments of joy, hope and humour.
The Bone Temple was a different kettle of fish, beyond tense!
Disturbing, harrowing, gory and tense. Uncomfortable viewing.
I was sat adjusting my seat up and down to try to hide my “disco leg” from my neighbour, (not a euphemism!)
Watch it at your earliest opportunity. The ending is EVEN better than in 28 years later.
That’s all for now folks!
Cheers
Johnny
p.s. Apologies for lack of photos in this blog, my old laptop died and I lost most of my recent pics 😦
I hope this finds you fit, well and in finest pre-festive fettle. Aiming for a non War & Peace style blog today.
Apologies in advance for some profanity use. I’ll stick a pound in the swear box. A bit f@cked off with the world am I just now. Everything has been slipping and has gone off a cliff to be honest. Here goes:
Two ways to ingest this bobbins!
I have had a Blog reader (there is one out there) who asked if this could be in audio format? Would that make it a podcast? I am not sure. Just a spoken word version, with maybe a few more words and no photos.
What do you, the reader, think?
Keeping it simple, I could do a parallel Youtube video version, or there are podcast platforms available, which may make it a more professional listening experience.
I don’t know? I am happy to give the people what they want!
Please let me know in the comments, by email: ladfromtad:gmail.com or by Whatsapp. If there is demand, I will do it 🙂
Trick or treat?
Another Halloween, this time trick or treating in York with Valentina and her school mates. The highlight was when one OTT house, complete with tombstones and skeletons half buried in the soil had a fox crossing at the exact minute we went there, it was so realistic, as it was in fact real!
Tad’s finest Halloween (& Christmas) house was looking mighty fine too, we swung by on the way home.
The wheels have fallen off.
May-June-July – On top of the world, on top of my game. August – Take a breather after the Lakeland 50, regroup fro back end of season. September-October-November – Everything is a crock of sh!t and/or has turned to sh!t.
Running, especially running on the fells is my life. Does that mean I “identify” as a fellrunner? I am not sure? If I lost both my legs tomorrow, probably not.
Am I about to pull on a GB vest? No. Am I ever likely to be mentioned in Championship despatches? No. Do I place a tremendous amout of time, energy and passion into the sport I love? Yes.
It is what I do, it is what I have always done, ever since my PE Teacher told me to “just run as many laps as you can, and then next week, run some more” and the Kentmere Pike Race in 1986 just opened me eyes completely, since then I have loved it and it is something I hope I can do until I am an old man, with grey hair, a grey beard, a knackered bumbag and very short shorts!
I got injured in August, sought professional help and started a good rehab programme, which involved A LOT of S&C. On top of this, I was already doing a lot of flexibility. However, not much running (& only a touch of cycling). I got stuck into the strengthwork and scratched out all the races. 3 years ago I would have done anything to avoid gymwork, but now I bloody well love it 🙂 A runner who cannot run is not a good person to be about. However, if you can “cross train” (swim, gym, bike, anything that releases the oh-so-addictive endorphins, it’s a good enough compromise. So, having only run about half a dozen times since September, I was doing 6-7 sessions of S&C per week and feeling stronger than ever, albeit not especially fit.
A comeback was looking possible…
I did run a race with Lina. The Shepherd’s Skyline, a cracker of a Pennine race from near Todmorden, up and down the iconic Stoodley Pike, on a day of all 3 seasons (not sure there is a summertime in Tod?) Especially the wet, wet, wet season. We arrived early. It was raining, 30mins later, it was raining and blowing, 15 mins later/15mins to go, it was raining and blowing harder. People were wondering “Is a warm up actually going to warm me up, or just get me drenched through before the start?”
Then, suddenly, as if by magic, the clouds parted, the taps were turned off and for a good hour, it was dry, then the rain (which felt like hail) came, but by then it was over. A great day out, steady stuff but great fun.
Then
Valentina got the lurgy from school, then Lina got the lurgy from Valentina, then after 5 days of resisting it by drowning myself in vitamins, holding my breath and washing my hands 27,000 times a day, I copped for it.
On day 1 of the start of the comeback.
I had cycled in to work, ran home and life was good, but the lurgy had different ideas. Had it been normal flu, I would have just sucked it up, but this was a bloody awful malaise: A constant headache that felt like walking into a solid wooden overhead hanging sign (which has happened to me) on the back of 15 pints of Stella (or heaven forbid, 15 pints of Carling Premier!) A racking cough, that never stops, even with cough medicine. A feeling like I has been run over by a HGV, several times. Streaming nose and more mucus than it is possible to imagine. Ribs hurt from coughing fits, back hurts from coughing fits. Sitting down hurts, lying down hurts, standing up hurts. Counting down the minutes until I can have some more paracetamol. Anyhow, there are people far worse off, suck it up! I don’t get ill often, but I have flashbacks to Long Covid of 2022 and that horrible Peris Plague last September, that wrote off last year. Vitamin C & D, give me endless vitamin C & D
The BIG bill.
There is always one bill that catches you out. Car MOT, a new boiler, or something else, equally as dull/uninspiring. An oversight by me, my bank and a benefactor meant I suddenly had to sell everything of value, to cover this “missed” bill. So, amongst other things (all of which I had saved up for) the bike and turbo trainer and some (not all) climbing gear had to go into the ebay funnel, and it has been bloody hard graft. Not as hard as making money on Vinted though, flogging pair of shorts for £2 (“Will you take £1.27”) reminiscent of a carboot sale. Bill now paid & some clutter gone!
(Whenever I write one of these blogs, I always go back through my photos since the last blog, to jog my memorty, but it pretty much entirely stuff I have sold on, hence the drought of pics in the blog).
FKT news.
In the world of FKTs (fastest known times, basically records) a new FKT was set recently. The John Musgrove Trail FKT was decimated by a 35 year old Fireman and part time Cobbler, Mr. Charlie Barker. Mr Barker once played football for Crawley Town. John Musgrove was the first Devonshire man in space, and when he returned from his trip with NASA, he felt restless and just started walking, linking up local beauty sport such as Maidenscombe, Cocklington, Brixton, Totnes and Dittisham. Mr. Barker was quoted as saying “ბედნიერი ვარ. ” (I am happy) when interviewed by the Torbay Times. He prefers to use his native tongue of Gerorgian, when performing interviews.
Mr. Barker, we salute you!
O.C f#cking D
Sometimes it takes you a while for the penny to drop! About 53 years in my case.
I used to share a house with a mate. His “thing” was checking. Plugs, gas oven, toaster, lights, door locks… All perfectly rational things to check, as they potentially stop your house from burning down or getting burgeled, or both!
(I know someone who once went away for the weekend and came home to find they had left their grill on! I would never leave the house again!)
At the time, I thought it had kind of “rubbed off” on me, as I became semi-obsessed with checking locks and doors. Even if I knew it was locked I “had to” check, otherwise my mind would race with the possibilities of the world ending through me not locking my front door. (IF I did check, thinking a door was locked and it wasn’t, it meant that proceedings would be delayed, as I checked, checked and checked again).
Other people have it with washing their hands (fine until they touch a dirty door handle!) Or towels being straight (David Beckham). I knew a guy who had a strict warm up routine and if he was interrupted, he would have to start all over again. People used to interrup him on purpose, to see how long before he exploded!
One day I just thought “This is stupid”. I check once, ad that is it! I thought that was it, OCD gone, until a conversation with a friend about the same topic and they pointed out all my OCD traits. F#ck me!
Drinking ✔️ Running ✔️ Training ✔️ Not giving up on a process/relationship/job when it is clearly not working ✔️
The O part of OCD absolutely doesn’t care what it obsesses or is obsessed about, as long as it is something. The C is in bed with the O, so the same goes for that sucker. The D part is the bad boy, as it is a disorder, a defect in the brain. That is the fecker that keeps coming back.
The thing is it’s like an “All-or-absolutely-nothing-at-all” switch. Almost like longer durations versions of fads and crazes. Things I was obsessed about previously: Beer, Horseracing, some types of music, travel, clothes, giving a sh!t about what people thought, are all just things I simply don’t care nor even think about these days. All were the most important part of my life at some point, only to be replaced by something else and to disappear.
I am told this all part of OCD behaviour. The thing I thought was just checking my door was locked.
Don’t get me wrong, used well, it can get you a long way. It is just the delicate balance of what is the limit and what is too much.
Like an imposed dictator in a power vacuum, my only worry is what will replace running/exercise in my Magic Roundabout life, if I don’t get moving and back in the groove soon?
K-Pop-non-stop.
With the lack of running, racing and mountains, it has been a very quiet quarter. The one brilliant highlight of a day was when the youngster had a Baker Day and I swung a day off work, we cooked up a plan, there was zero worth watching at the flicks and the weather was a bit crap to go sea fishing.
Valentina is well into all things Korean (south!) Especially the music and culture, so as neither of us had ever tried Korean food, we thought we’d go into York to investigate.
First stop a Korean supermarket, where I embarassed the young ‘un with my earwigged 3 words of Korean from her Duolingo. I used to live almost entirely on cheapo packet noodles, but gave them up completely years ago. One more packet. We had them for tea, but I felt guilty and have now given them up for good!
Then we braved The Shambles (which I realised, being the anti-tourist that I am, I had never been to). A strange old street with peculiar numbering meant it took a while to find the place, “Omoni House”. Quiet, simple, good service and tasty tucker.
We never, ever go out for meals these days, apart from birthday fish and chips, so it was nice to have a little day out together. (This was before “The Big Bill!” Otherwise it would have just been packet Ramon noodles!)
Raiders round up
4 weeks to go until the first (friendly) game of the new season.
The Championship is wide open. York, Bradford Northern and Toulouse have all been promoted to Superleague. I personally feel Bradford deserve a shot in the big league, it would be great to see the Bradford of old, with their terrifyingly massive pack. Toulouse are class. Not sure if a French team works logistically, but Toulouse and Catalan bring a bit of garlic flair to the superleague! I have mixed feelings about York. It is a great stadium, it will be brilliant to see the big guns there and it’s good for the city, but there have been some underhanded tactics in the admin side of things, but that is my own personal opinion!
So back in the Championship, how will it pan out? Barrow have history, passion and support. They have potential, will they realise it?
And finally
There are people in life who are dog people. If you have a dog, or have had a dog, chances are you are a dog person. There are also cat people, budgie people, fish people and rats/snakes/spiders/iguana people. Cats are pretty much idependent and basically do what the f””k they want (including letting you stroke them, then without warning, dig their claws into you for no reason). I have kept fish, it’s very relaxing, but they only really get giddy when you feed them, and it didn’t matter if I fed them, or anyone, else, Michael Fish, Metal Mickey, Kayne West or Fred West fed them, it would make little difference. They wouldn’t remember anyway.
Back to dogs. A dog is part of the family, a loyal friend, if you have a good day at work, your dog will be happy to see you, if you have a crap day at work, your dog will be happy to see you, and that is why dogs rock and the reason that there is a special bond.
We have always had (family) dogs. You shouldn’t have favourites, but Meg (Chocolate Labrador) and I were best buddies. She loved eating, running and being daft. She was undecided about camping, (sheep outside the tent used to wind her up!) She would set off on a run at 100mph, regardless if it was a 1 mile run or 10 miles. Tragically, she got cancer, too young, and was taken away way too early.
After Meg, we had Molly. Molly was ace.
Another Chocolate Labrador, with a huge heart. Valentina and her were inseperable, especially during the pandemic. Their birthdays were one day apart.. They used to spend hours outside, just sat, (Valentina doing most of the) talking. Molly suddenly got a condition called Twisted Gut and sadly had to be put to sleep. It was a dark time and the hardest thing I have ever had to do, telling Valentina that her soul mate had gone. RIP.
Jacob Tonkin is one of the most likeable people in fellrunning, “The Fellrunner’s Fellrunner” and one of my favourite fellrunning friends. This is his story about George. It has been hugely popular with lots of different people. Please take the time to watch it, preferably on a screen bigger than your phone!
That’s all for now folks!
Johnny
p.s. Sorry for my whingeing. More positivity next time!
I hope you are in fine fettle. A month after my departure from the “socials”, I do sometimes feel as if I am living on the moon. Plus points: Way more time, less distraction. Minus points: I miss videos of overexcited dogs smashing up houses, on Instagram.
Autumn, I will be honest, is not my favourite time of year. “I love the changing colours of autumn” said no colourblind person, ever! In addition, it is merely a prelude to the inevitable winter, a season I just cannot wait to get through!
Summer was absolutely ace though, so I cannot grumble too much.
A busy old month, summarised concisely below…
(We had a house inspection and had this visitor pop in 2 days before. I rebelive in Father Christmas if this fat fecker can squeeze down a chimney! Took some catching and cleaning up).
Grisedale Horseshoe
Last year, on the hottest day of the year, I ran probably my best race in recent years (until I went wrong and got lost after the final checkpoint, but we will gloss over that minor detail). I ran a pitched battle against a mate from Bingley Harriers, who I can just about beat if I am running at my best. As it happens, he went the right way and I ended up lost in head high bracken.
Fast forward to this year, the conditions were very different. Windy, claggy and cold. Proper Lakes weather. I wasn’t racing as I was running as Tail-end Charlie Sweeper. A much smaller field and a much faster pace, even at the back. (The back runners ran the first “segment” faster than I raced it last year so Strava told me, on what was to be my last outing on the app).
As sweeper I had to collect all the checkpoint “dibbers”, a device which has all the unfolding race information. Runners “dib” at each checkpoint, which shows their progress and finishing times, the dibbers are basically converted smartphones, which I had to guard with my life until eventually all 6 devices were collected as they bounced and jostled about in my bumbag to the finish.
(Back in the day, race organisers used bread tags with the runner’s number on, which were kept on a huge safety pin clipped to your shorts, and then at each checkpoint you would frisbee your tag at some poor marshall who would then thread the tags onto a long piece of metal cable, thereby determining the order of each runner at each part of the race. Simpler but more complicated/laborious times!)
I made friends with a cool lass from Wigan, who was coincidentally coached by a friend of mine. So for a very short period in the middle of the race, we had a mini party on the fells, before the roller coaster ride up and down St. Sunday Crag and the up and down of thecruel last climb of the race and a sumptious buffet at the end!
A top day out organised by the fine folk at Achille Ratti CC.
Crocked-ish?
At the back end of a competitive season which seemed to evaporate the minute I crossed the line of the Lakeland 50, I currently find myself in that land that no runner wants to be in, the land where one cannot run as they are injured!
I have been juggling a veritable banquet of niggles all season, but a new one came out of the blue and slammed the brakes on training. I am grateful for the fact that I have found a good Physio, who is guiding me back to the Promised Land! (Lee Mills Relays in 8 weeks, if everything goes to plan).
For now, it is time for as much S&C as I can physically manage and going into the Pain Cave, also known as my (recently cleared out) shed, on the road to nowhere on the Turbo Trainer.
Wish me luck!
Dw i’n dysgu Cymraeg!
After a brilliant mini break in Wales this summer, the frustration of only understanding 2 road signs (Araf & Allen) inspired me to jump on Duolingo to learn Welsh.
I have never used Duolingo before, it is a bit of fun. After a 14 day streak I grew a pair and tried it out on a real, live Welsh person, and realised that Duolingo positively flatters one’s progress. In addition, the free version does not include any speaking practice, so I am not sure I will ever get my tongue round the seemingly unpronouncable words in the Welsh lingo.
(i I am learning useful phrases like “I am not buying parsnips for Owen” and “I don’t like pineapple either!” I will surely go a long way. The Young One is learning Korean, which does make my Welsh look like a picnic!)
My head’s a shed!
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Phase I complete! Back in 2013, a rushed house move meant I needed some storage space. So My Dad kindly let me put up a shed at his place. It arrived unassembled in 1,000,000 pieces and it took us both a full and frustrating weekend to put up. Then, another rushed house move, a move to Peru, a move back to Blighty, and the consumerist trappings of Western internet/mail order shopping filled it to the roof. Then another rushed house move and another shed at the new gaff, meant that I then had double trouble. Now, after 3 car boot sales, a full time job selling on ebay and numerous trips to the charity shop and tip, I have finally emptied one shed and half cleared out the other.
It has been a 100% ballache, but in a satisfying way, worthwhile. Maybe now I will get some of my weekends back.
Quiet please!
In a moment of madness I have signed up for a 7 day Silent Meditation and yoga course, in May 2026.
I have tried meditation, with mixed results. I have tried Yoga, with disastrous results, (Zeta the Yogi lost her sh!t with me and my Yoga fecklessness!) I have tried silence, and failed.
So, after a week I should be a Zen Master, or I may be sent home in disgrace on day 1…
“Can’t you!”
Do you ever think that general manners are on the decline? Without sounding like my role model, Victor Meldrew, I do wonder sometimes.
I drive for a job, so I do see the worst in people (and the worst in driving). People are late, people are stressed, people are full of self entitlement.
Last week I was parked up in York. A guy behind me parked up and disappeared, leaving me about 1ft of space behind. No problem, I was parked on the limit of where people could park, before double yellow lines. Then a lady parked in the entrance to a business marked “No parking”, blocking me in completely.
I thought she must just be dropping someone off, so I waited a moment. It became apparent that she wasn’t so I got out to ask if she could move forward a tiny bit to let me out. Me: “Excuse me, please could you just move forward a bit? I can’t get out” Her: “Can’t you!” (more of a statement than a question, and then closed her window)
As I was in the works vehicle (emblazoned with work logos) & my uniform (jacket and top, also emblazoned with work logos), I couldn’t really say what I was thinking, so I took a deep breath and did a 57-point turn to get out.
Next May can’t come quick enough!
Raiders round-up.
The end of the season saw the mighty Raiders finish in 9th spot and York Knights (boooo) finish top. However, logic does not apply in rugby league and it looks like London (who finished below Barrow) will get upped into the Superleague!
A strange tick box matrix of finances, ground capacity, performances, fanbase, by the RL is what dictates “who goes up”. It is not simply a matter of finishing top of the league and getting promoted.
Imagine if they messed around with football in the same way?!
RIP Jimmy
October the 2nd was a difficult day. I said goodbye and paid my respects to an old mate of mine, James Spencer. Jimmy and I worked together at Little Chef. My first “proper” job. Little Chef was a brilliant job. Overworked, underpaid, but with awesome people. A year younger than me, Jimmy had a way of making every moment an absolute laugh. Only the most cold-hearted supervisors at work didn’t smile when he was on shift. He introduced me to Leeds Moutaineering Club, where we would plan trips on Tuesday nights at the Adelphi and have some riotous climbing weekends away. When I used to ring him for a chat, his Dad would shout “It’s your camping buddy!” We both had a love for horseracing and drinking! As members of York Racecourse, we would never miss a meeting. Full all-dayers back to back, crazy times. I would work long shifts at Argos, Sweater Shop, Next Warehouse, Texas Homecare, any shitty second Christmas job (remember Argos, pre-internet) to earn enough spare cash for a Cheltenham trip in March. We were both as daft as brushes together and would spend hours reciting Alan Partridge and Vic & Bob. I could fill an entire blog and more on the ridiculous scrapes and antics we got up to. Every single occasion and consequent memory was a brilliant one.
Unfortunately, during the pandemic we lost touch, I don’t know how. Every time I went past Garforth, I used to think “I must get in touch with Spen”, but I never did, until it was too late…
I received a text from his Fiancee telling me the sad, sad and unexpected news that he had passed away. Although I had not seen James for a few years, he was the kind of mate you would just pick up where you had left.
The Crematorium was packed. A very sad day. A unique character. He had a gift, a way of making people around him laugh, smile and feel at ease. He was the only mate I had who I could mix with other groups of mates, as it impossible not to like him. Gone far too soon.
I hope you are in fine fettle and enjoying the (generally decent) summer weather. At risk of this being an Ultrablog, I willl try my best to keep it concise. Here goes!
Lakeland 50
A race that was originally entered with the intention of getting Lina in, and me running round with her, which resulted in me getting in, and Lina, not getting in. (7000+ hopefuls enter the ballot, which has space for about 2000 lucky folk).
I did the Lakeland 100 in 2011, essentially for a bet! It was much, much smaller then, and I rocked up to the start knowing very little about the world of Ultra running, to be surrounded by folk wearing long socks, sun visors and using walking poles. Somehow, I got round in 31hrs and 55mins, joint 42nd place out of 221 starters. Not exactly setting the world alight, but it was my longest ever run by 50 miles. (The Lakeland 100 is 105 miles, and the Lakeland 50 is a shade under 50 miles, at least it was on my watch).
The Lakeland 50 is just: DALEMAIN-Howtown Bobbins Mill-Mardale Head-Kentmere-Ambleside-Chapel Stile-Tilberthwaite-CONISTON.
So, fast forward 14 years and a week before (in fact for a full 11 months before) the race I was regretting my decision to enter as a) It is a l-o-n-g race slap bang in the middle of the season, ruling out a lot of other more tempting summer fell races. b) It is a trail race, not a fell race. Minor detail, but fell races are much more low-key, minimum jazz events, no inflatable hoops, nor booming beatbox music, Starbuck’s themes and “everyone is a legend” strapline.
Basically I was being a miserable git!
A friend pointed out that for 99.999% of the other runners, this was an annual pilgrimage, their world cup final and a weekend that they looked forward and prepped for, for 11mths, so I could either moan my way round, or perhaps try to enjoy it!
I will save you the step-by-step account and merely present you with the highs and lows.
Highs: Running with Mr. Jacob Tonkin as far as Mardale, the ridiculous crowd reception at Ambleside (which would have been a brilliant place to finish! I think there were about 3 people outside the dearly missed Lakes Runner in 2011), and ultimately the finish.
Lows: Losing JT at Mardale, open toenail surgery on Garburn Pass, nausea from Kentmere, a banana drought in general (not a euphemism).
Lina did a run out with the La Sportiva people the day before (& tested a pair of £190 shoes, which thankfully didn’t fit her) and the Youngster did “The Lakeland 1”, a mad dash one mile fun run around the school grounds, so it was an all-round sporting spectacle.
I had a repeat of the last 3 big runs I have done with nausea and a death-like feeling for hours afterwards, but did nothing different so that is to be expected! I had wayyyyyy too much caffeine/Voom and got sick of gels too early on. The only drama, apart from gallons of blood and pus from a once pristine model toenail, was a bloke in the dorm the night of the finish, who had had one too many sundowners and went for an extended piddle in the dorm. My overintake of Voom meant that I was wide awake until 5am anyway! (Which was a good job as my bags would have been drowned if I hadn’t grabbed them out of the danger zone).
Good weekend all in all 🙂
WARNING – TOE PIC ALERT!!!
Looks like my toe modelling career is on hold!
Summer holidays
Lakeland 50, A week in the Lakes, 4 days in sunny North Wales and another week in the Lakes. Then… A week sorting out the junk in my shed all geared towards a big car boot sale on the Sunday morning.
Lovely Langdale
I do love Langdale!
After the shock of Wasdale last month (camping everywhere, campfires, parking in passing places), in Langdale, despite its accessibility, people seemed to be behaving a bit better, with the exception of the ar$es who dumped a tent, 2 sleeping bags and a load of rubbish, smothered in tomato/BBQ sauce, wrapped up in the flysheet, weighed down with rocks and with all the poles deliberately snapped.
Since when was it ok to leave sh!t like this anywhere, let alone on a main path in the Lakes? (The answer is never).
Big HATS OFF to Josie & Raych for bringing it all down off the fell.
Managed to squeeze in a run with John M too. A recce of the new Three Shires route, great day out 🙂
The girls got some swimming in, with Josie and Raych (I held the towels, not or me thank you!)
Sin City.
Shoehorned an afternoon in Blackpool into the agenda.
Blackpool is a bit of a one-off place, it is Tat Central and perhaps lacking some of its former glory.
We did find a really cool place called “SHOWTOWN”, which is well worth a visit.
Then we went to the world’s busiest swimming pool, Sandcastle Water Park, and then back to the Lakes and then…
Cote d’Anglesey
Having been blindly loyal to the Lakes, a trip to North Wales seemed like going to a distant exotic land, and it was!
Bethesda is in between the mountains of Snowdonia and the sandy beaches of Anglesey, so on my birthday we did something I have never done on my birthday and went to the beach!
The next day we did a b-i-g tour of Snowdonia, humbled by 2 Korean bikers who had ridden from Korea!
Demon Hunters.
(Howzat for a segue!)
Modern music is generally sh!t, but that is only my opinon. From the Leeds Festival ine-up I recognised 4 bands, but if they came in my lounge right now and started playing, I would not be able to name them or their songs!
Flashback to 1992 and we had festival line-ups like THIS!
Part of getting old is moaning at modern music 🙂
Anyhoooo.
The Youngster likes a wide mix of music, most of it is actually alright. She has recently taken a liking to K-Pop, which is a whole new world to me. The recent (Netflix) film “K-Pop Demon Hunters has become a favourite of her’s and we went along to the singalong at the cinema.
OH MY WORD!
I do like to watch a film in silence, but that was not an option 🙂 All the young ‘uns seemed to enjoy it anyway.
(It beats “Let it goooooooo” by a country mile in my eyes!)
Carbootland.
I was so traumatised by the wretched midwinter experience of a (very early) morning at Rufforth car boot sale in 2003 that I refused to go near one for 22 years. However, after a pain free morning at Thorp Arch car boot sale a few months back, I decided to return and managed to flog all manner of junk, to people whose houses must look like the interior of my shed(s).
It is always surprising what people buy (and also how low some will try to barter), but after shifting half of the tat I took, I had to resort to eBay and have sold the last thing I said that I would never sell, my double bass.
After 35 years, I have sold it on, for exactly the same amount that I paid for it, which means I got it for a bargain and I’m now giving away the crown jewels, or vice versa, either way it’s gone!
Steel Fell
The part where it starts to get real on the Bob Graham Round, which looks almost vertical from Dunmail Raise, but that is not the best way up!
The Steel Fell is one of the gems of the fellrunning world. A straight up-&-straight-down 3 miles/5km midweeker with 1312ft/400m of climbing. However, the treat wasn’t mine, it was for Lina!
Lina has done a few fell races now, but nothing in this league. There are absolutely no hiding places in a straight up and down. She got bad cramp on the way up and suffered somewhat but smiled all the way down.
In the meantime the youngster and I had a good chinwag with Mr. Tonkin, Rachael May and Hector Robert.
Many thanks to Pete T for the brilliant photos 🙂
The Big Digital Reset
Dropping out into the digital wilderness! Made a decision to come off the socials: Strava, Instagram and Facebook.
No Instagram means no more watching videos of dogs trashing houses.
I am not actually on FB, but do have an account for getting information about stuff.
Strava will be trickiest. I have been on it for years and it is an ingrained habit, but…
It is a distraction and it has to go.
Streamlining/simplifying my life and although the girls would be happy if I did follow my dreams to be a monk in Tibet, there are bills to pay, so in Taddy I shall remain!
So, dropping off social media, but writing an online blog is a bit of a paradox, but both ofmy readers seem keen to read whatever dribble I scribble. so the blog remains.
I recently re-read “Domestique” by Charly Wegelius and he shaved his hair off to avoid time wasted combing or washing his hair. He was so focussed on his training/racing/performance.
Is it time to hack off my mullet? 🙂
Raider’s round-up
A few tough games, that simply haven’t gone our way has plunged the mighty Shipbuilders from the dizzy heights of the upper table echelons down to (lower) mid table obscurity. Some gutsy, brave performances, but just not in our favour.
We did get to see the mighty Shipbuilders on a very soggy afternoon at York, but the Knights were just too strong in their defence.
Big news was the record achievement of coach, Paul Crarey. (Snipped from the NWE Mail):
“Paul Crarey will register his 350th game as coach of Barrow, breaking Frank Foster’s record of 349, which has stood since 1983.Foster’s reign was unbroken, commencing in 1973, while Crarey’s achievement has come in two stages. He was in charge from 2005 till 2007 and returned in 2014 taking over from Bobby Goulding until the current day. Crarey has worked wonders over the years, when he came back, there was no money in the bank. But like a trojan he steadily got to grips with matters along with then chairman David Sharp.Steve Neale and fellow directors came on board and Crarey went about the task of bringing Barrow back from the brink of death. The same year Barrow won promotion to the Championship winning the play-off final before a crowd of over 3,000 against Whitehaven at Craven Park. In the 2022 season, Crarey was named Championship coach of the year.”
xr:d:DAFDNFy8DC0:1897,j:46356472394,t:23020311
352 games in charge, good old Cresta!
With just 2 more games to go (Halifax at home and Sheffield away), we seem to be safe from the drop zone, so in the Championship we survive!
COYR
And finally
In the madness leading up to our Mongol Rally, when I was purely obsessing about the trip whilst working shifts, I saw this video.
GoPro cameras were in their infancy and there was still a bit of a “wow” factor about them, THEN the GoPro remote was released and being the marketing wizards that they are, the temptation to get one was huge. (As one of the main plans for the rally was to make a film).
However, there were 2 small hiccups: 1) GoPro a troublesome and fiddly app and update, which affected their installation/operation. It was basically released in a rush, before it was ready, 2) You could not buy them for love nor money, as everywhere was out of stock.
Friday the 13th (of July 2012) was the deadline as that was when we were leaving. With a week to go I managed to find a surf shop in Cornwall who seemed to have bought all of the UK stock, so I received mine on the Wednesday with 2 days to go. After spending a morning trying frantically to get the bloody thing to connect to the camera and my phone app, at a time when I had a gadzillion other things to do, I gave in, throwing the blasted thing in a corner and it never made it on the trip, whilst we drove eastwards, the GoPro wizardry languished in a box of tangled cables and failed electronic dreams.
HOWEVER, if I had had the time, the patience, the budget and the know-how, THIS is what I could have created and it is pretty bloody awesome!
Hasta la proxima amigos 🙂 Johnny & the girls
p.s. This is my favourite song of all time and I would like everyone to dance to it at my funeral please 🙂
This is the latest hotch-potch round-up of happenings from the land of Tad.
A busy old month.
This is an extended 12″, apologies, get a brew!
Summer came (and stayed), the sun shone and shone and shone, to the point where hosepipes were banned and folk even did rain dances.
A month twinged with disappointment, as sadly the Youngster’s operation did not work. I was absolutely gutted for her, as she had been so brave, hadn’t moaned once and had bounced back well, but sadly that’s just the way it is sometimes.
We snook in a 24hr raid up to Langdale for a club BBQ. the girls went for a dip in Loughrigg Tarn, then I got equally as soggy on some hill reps near Blea Tarn.
Along with a few other sunny weekends away, July has been pretty awesome so far 🙂
Carry on camping.
All year Valentina’s school had been planning a big trip down to East Sussex, which is north of Eastbourne, west of Brighton and south of London. Not a manor I know well, but after a LOT of planning, prep and packing, everyone was ready.
Then it was cancelled, the day before 😦
Everyone was absolutely gutted.
So, we all rallied round and found an alternative. One of the class parents found a campsite near Scarboghorror that would take a group booking, so on the Friday, off we headed, to the (Yorkshire) East Coast, breaking all my own rules about never heading east on a sunny weekend!
All the kids were good as gold, the sun shone (although perhaps not as strongly as the wind blew), I squeezed in a sweaty run up to Ravenscar and back, and a good time was had by all, (including the greedy bloody Ticks! Never known a lowland place as riddled with the little Blighters).
Hopefully the class won’t think “Remember the time we didn’t go to East Sussex” but “Remember that awesome camping trip when we went to Scarbados”
Felix and the Green Machine!
(Great name for a band!)
A few months ago I was asked by a friend from Achille Ratti CC, if I would like to help out on his Bob Graham Round. (I run for Pudsey & Bramley AC, but I’m also a member of Achille Ratti Climbing Club, who along with other climbers, mountaineers and walkers, have a multitude of fellrunners from other running clubs).
Felix runs for Dark Peak Fell Runners, a BIG running club in Sheffield. Every “longest day” weekend, DPFR organise “The Green Machine”, a logistical force of nature designed to get any club members round the Bob Graham Round, who fancy a crack at it. On this particular weekend there were 5 hardy souls attempting to enter the sub-24hr hall of 42 peaks fame!
Felix has only been running a few years but has already achieved some amazing results already; Old County Tops (twice), and a 3:30 Three Peaks to name but a few. So when he asked me to pace him, I hinted that he was too fast for me/I was too slow for him, but he said (in his ever-cheery manner) that it was just a big day out!
How could I resist? Plus, to be a tiny non-DPFR cog in the mighty Green Machine was too good an opportunity to miss.
The club hired out a campsite at Thornthwaite (part way to Cockermouth, alongside Bassenthwaite). I got across the A66 just in time to see the Gran Depart, then it was back to camp, chat, faff and sleep.
The BGers set off Friday teatime, so whilst us campers were lounging about, they were tackling leg 1 (Skiddaw, Great Calva and Blencathra, with a very, very steep freefall to Threlkeld) and then leg 2 (Clough Head, all the Dodds, the Helvellyn range, Fairfield and Seat Sandal) and onto leg 3 (Steep old Steel Fell, the Langdale fells, Bowfell Esk Pike and all the Scafell Range).
Overnight we got the news that Felix was almost 2hrs up on schedule, so we headed over to Wasdale, to witness a rather heated bun fight at the NT car park. The longest day weekend is rush hour for “Three Peakers”, numerous groups all trying to summit the highest 3 peaks in the land. Wasdale doesn’t cope with it too well. There simply isn’t enough parking for a shedload of mini buses and trailers. By Wasdale most of the people tackling the Three Peaks will have been on the go most of Friday and through the night, so some folk are a little tetchy perhaps!
However, Felix soon arrived, had a lightning quick pit-stop and we were off, up the BGR Nemesis of many, Yewbarrow. A diminuitive but ridiculously steep peak climbing near vertically out of the car park!
This isn’t even thesteep side
“We” were Felix, myself and a top lad called Luke (another non Dark Peaker). The fact that both lad’s combined ages was less than mine worried me a bit, Luke had run LEJOG in 14 days, but leg 4 of the BGR is an absolute belter, the weather was good and spirits were high.
Yewbarrow, Red Pike (Wasdale, NOT Buttermere), out and back to Steeple, Kirk Fell, Great Gable (make it here, in time, with anything left in the tank and your chances of completion are high), Green Gable, Brandreth, Grey Knotts and a plunge down to Honister Pass, to pick up Cameron (who is also called Josh) who had done a 13min 5000m. I had been hanging on by my fingernails up to now. The pace was about to step up. Like a struggling WW2 Fighter pilot in a damaged Spitfire, I jetisonned all of my own absolutely non-essential kit, as the pace was about to get even hotter.
Robinson,42 of 42 peaks done ✔
Leg 5 is the victory lap, but first Dale Head, Hindscarth and ultimately, Robinson and then a last plummet to the road at Little Town. Change shoes, cramp up immediately in the process, suck it up, trying not to be sick, feeling goosed. Head down on the road all the way back to Portinscale, Keswick outskirts and finally, THE MOOT HALL, with Felix banging the door 21hrs and 5 minutes after leaving the night before.
BGR DONE 🙂
Glorious weather, amazing company, party atmosphere and a free pint for the conquering hero.
Chuffed to bits for Felix. I had had to dig deep. I felt rough; dizzy, nauseous and desperate for the khazi. I was just about to slip away from the party to find the nearest WC and then bumped into the legendary Cherry B, a running friend I had never actually met outside of Strava, so had a chat and then immediately afterwards, I bumped into Rose G, from Leeds, up in the Lakes recceing a Frog Graham (another story for another time!) Had a very quick chat and then I then ran faster than Allan Wells to the nearest place that might have had a toilet, which unluckily for Costa Coffee, was Costa Coffee.
“CLEANING IN PROGRESS” was the worst possible sign that I could have seen at that very moment, but the cleaner , seeing the look of desperation in my eyes, said I could use the Disabled toilet. (I am colourblind). I won’t traumatize you with details, but I was not well and then I discovered that timeless classic “NO TOILET ROLL”
There was a few pieces on the floor, beggars can’t be choosers, then after hearing some pretty banging on the door, I staggered out, apologising to the luckless souls following me. They looked haunted. “Sorry, I am not well” was my parting shot, having recreated the toilet scene from Trainspotting.
Back to the main event at the Moot Hall, the party in the afternoon sun continued and everyone was getting stuck into the beer, I felt even worse so made my excuses and started to walkback to the campsite. Ambitious! I made it half a mile to the bus stop and topped. Slumped over a wall, waiting for the 16:48 to Cockermouth. I would have waited a week for that 16:48 as there was no way I would have made it walking…
Guardian Angels do exist in real life!
Mine was Tori Miller, heading into Keswick to do her shopping, who kindly did a u-turn and took me back to a campsite of which I couldn’t remember: a) The location. b) The name.
After a bit of to-in and fro-ing, we found it, I thanked Tori a hundred times and then forced myself to eat something, for the long drive home. Resisting the draw of a shower (the best camspite shower in the UK I was later told), I pulled out of the campsite and noticed my “Boot Open” warning light, which always lights up when I haven’t slammed the boot properly. I was planning to stop for a brew at Rheged, so it could wait
An urgent sounding horn honking from behind made me realise that the boot was actually wide open and half my kit had fallen onto the road.
After a quick reload, it was away and by 11pm, I was finally home.
What a weekend, plus ALL 5 DARK PEAKERS GOT ROUND IN UNDER 24 HOURS. 100% SUCCESS RATE!
“Heat Training”
Although I have recentlybeen called a Trendy Wendy for doing Uphill Treadmill sessions and eating 126g carbs per hour, heat training (especially passive heat training) is something that is so easy to do and will get results, especially if your race day is on a day which is hot enough to boil a monkey’s backside!
Saunas, hot baths or simpling sticking your car heating on HOT on a hot day (especially if the interior of your car is hot already) can provoke pysiological changes in your body, which will help you adapt (suffer less) if you are racing on the surface of the sun, with very little shade!
DISCLAIMER: “Exercising in the heat can be incredibly dangerous and should not be done lightly or on a whim. It is very easy to overdo heat training and wind up with heat exhaustion or heat stroke.“
So, I have been doing this on a regular basis and had a last minute opportunity to do some on the way up to the Lakes. (Not advisable!)
The plan: Heat training from work to the Cumbria Border, an hour’s drive.
The reality: Murderous traffic and roadworks on the A66, plus an absolute scorcher of an afternoon, meant an extended 94 minute session, in which I ran out of water and ended up dying for the toilet. Hang on until Penrith, I told myself. After going through the worst traffic in Northern England, Rheged services couldn’t come soon enough.
Would this heat training (as opposed to actual running training, of which I was lacking) be enough? Would it even make a difference?
Wasdale Horseshoe Fell Race – The Big Daddy!
“Deepest lake, highest mountain, biggest liar and hardest fell race – that’s Wasdale. Wordsworth once said that every fellrunner should do Wasdale at least once, or something like that!”
A last minute entry into my favourite race. Perfect forecast. What could go wrong?
This year I have not been as greedy as last year with choosing my races. 2024 was at best ambitious, at worst suicidal. Too many races meant the season was ended by August. 2025 has been more selective and although I have not yet made it to the start line of the Lakeland 50, it has been a good year and I am having a break in August anyway!
The Old County Tops, Ennerdale and Wasdale were all down as my A-races. With Wasdale, I had never ever headed into a race with as many doubts and question marks as I did for Wasdale last weekend. I even had an 11th hour (Friday lunchtime) try-out run (and then an 11th hour fall down the stairs at work straight after!)
After an extended heat training session and a 4.5hr journey, I finally arrived to Wasdale on a balmy evening, (although not as barmy as it was on the lake shore the next evening!)
I first ran Wasdale in 2001: 34 started, 25 finished, a lot of clag and a lot of navigation. Looking back I have no idea how I got round, but I did.
Fast forward to 2025: 140 entries, 100 starters, but how many would finish?
An inspiring pre-race talk by the RO told us what everyone already knew, it was going to be hot and we were going to suffer!
The Wasdale Horseshoe starts near Brackenclose, Wasdale Head, with checkpoints on Illgill Head (60mins cut off), down across the valley to Greendale Bridge and up the boggy slopes of Seatallan (1:25 cut off), across to Pillar (2:25 cut off), to Great Gable (3:30 cut off) and then down to Styhead, up to Esk Hause, up a bit more to the roof of England, Scafell Pike, then a freewheel down Lingmell Nose, back to the finish. 20 miles/32km with 9000ft/2740m up and down.
Wasdale cut-offs are tight, and if you are tight at the cut-offs, these tight cut-offs get even tighter! It was hot from the off.
Illgill Head was ok, then plunging down into the sauna in the valley, past Greendale Bridge and then a chitter-chatter free yomp up Seatallan, NOBODY was talking, despite my best efforts! (I love a chat, but I get why people didn’t!) 10mins to spare at Seatallan, cutting it fine, 60 seconds to spare at Pillar, it was going to be so close. I had chomped through 2 bars of caffeinated Voom, and gulped a few litres of caffeinated Tailwind. (Caffeine has a half life I have since learned, this would come back to haunt me later).
Round the back of Kirk Fell, I booted a big rock with my right foot and immediately my right calf started cramping up, please, not now!
Great Gable was the first ever mountain I climbed as a youngster and it is one of my favourites, but the Wasdale race approach is a cruel one, hidden until you round a corner and see what looks like a vertical climb, the sun was out and any breeze had died, nobody was chatting, some had given up hope, but I had already decided that I would turn myself inside out to get there, at that moment in time, for 20 minutes, that was ALL that mattered in my life and the universe. With a parody of a run after scrambling up and over the near vertical boulder field, I somehow made the cut-off, but had burnt way too many matches, as there was still a long way to go (but mercifully no more cut-offs).
I stumbled down the far side of Gable and topped up with water at a questionable looking beck. Chatting to an old mate I hadn’t seen for 20 years, I racked my brains to think if there were any more streams before the end, as my water quickly disappeared, my reactions slowed and my batteries emptied.
On the death march up towards the start of the ridge, a big lady (stomping downhill) was just about to plough straight into me (gurning uphill), so I “skipped” across to the other path and then my right hamstrings twanged, cramping up. I took a really, really poor line, rock hopping clumsily to Scafell Pike and then dibbed my dibber, meaning it was all downhill to the finish.
Being a scorching summer day, Scafell Pike was awash with folk. Highest mountains (Scafell Pike, Snowdon and Ben Nevis, plus, I guess, Everest) always attract a wide, wide range of people. Each of these mountains have way more attractive, interesting, beautiful neighbours, albeit not as lofty).
I staggered down through the clouds to Lingmell col, and then rolled down the ever steepening slopes of Lingmell Nose, to the last checkpoint, the world’s highest/steepest stile and the finish in sight. Down, down, down and DONE!
I had exactly the same feeling that I had after Felix’s BGR. Nausea, stomach ache and again, the only position I felt ok-ish in was leant over. I needed the toilet, badly, but fearing I might pass out from post race heat training (portaloos do get hot in the sun), I then discovered no bog roll (this is surely a Déjà vu conspiracy!)
Back to the van, loo roll found, back to the loo, back to the van, cramped up, felt sick, sat down, waited an hour, then decided against driving home (original plan) and drove back to the hut, passing a shocking circus of campers, campfires, MASSIVE tents, ghettoblasters and cars parked in passing places.
Enjoy beautiful places in the great outdoors, swim, paddleboard, kayak, splash about, run, walk, do what you like, but respect the area, the people who live there and other people using it. Someone parking their 25 plate Audi A4 (in a passing place) can surely afford the campsite fees at a campsite. It is not Glastonbury, it’s the Lake District and nobody should have to pick up someone else’s sh!t afterwards.
Since when was it ok to do that?
The National Trust is either powerless, under-resourced or have simply given up. It was a shocking and upsetting sight, but that is another topic for another day…
Anyway, caffeine!
I gave up coffee 5 years ago. In my heyday I got up to 12 cups a day, then reduced it to 4 mugs a day (4 x 9-cup Mr.Bialettis), then gave it up totally, thinking it would solve my sleep issues, but it didn’t so I am back on it again. I never have a cuppa after midday, BUT Voom bars are not cuppas and I ws guzzling one chunk every 30mins until 5pm, so…
When I finally got to bed at midnight, I laid WIDE awake until 1:30am, then the Cockerel started cock-a-doodle-doing at around 3:30-4am, so I got up at 5am and drove home.
As a resume, if my legs dropped off and Wasdale 2025 was my last ever race, I would be content 🙂
The Lakeland 50? Next weekend. If my troublesome knee rights itself?
Raider’s round-up
The mighty Raiders comprehensively beat Batley Bulldogs 40:16 last weekend on a sweltering Sunday and remain in 5th spot in the league, ahead of a daunting trip to York, against the in-form-top-of-the-league York Knights. (I remember when York used to be Ryedale York and they were generally rubbish, but the current outfit are bloody good!)
Meanwhile, Barrow Ladies trounced Warrington 52:10 and a win in the Superleague top flight has to be celebrated 🙂
Barrow ladies Vs. York Ladies Barrow men Vs. York Men. Double header this afternoon at York. COYR!!!
Although this is a blog and a blog is just basically an open diary, there are some things that should remain private, it is a fine line. The Youngster had to go into hospital this week for an operation and after our last time in hospital, we were all a bit worried, but the bairn was the calmest of the three of us. She just seems to take things in her stride.
The NHS gets a lot of flak these days, it is not the force of old, but then how could it be? The poplulation has grown and the powers that be have decimated services and resources, although thousands of doctors, nurses and staff carry out their labour of love, day in, day out, often without an ounce of praise. It is a strange thing, but I think if you are of a certain age, you do (perhaps less these days) still defend the NHS as it was once a wonderful organisation, and it still shines!
I can definitely say, hand on heart, that the staff at the LGI were absolutely blooming AMAZING! Every single one of them.
Just taking things easy for a little while. Hoping the Nipper will bounce back and be up to full fitness again soon. Thank you for your messages.
28 Years Later.
Oh, what could have been…
I have my ticket for the opening night premiere of the long awaited “28 YEARS LATER”, (not the red carpet, just at my local flicks).
Resisting the temptation to shout out “THAT COULD HAVE BEEN ME, HIM THERE, THAT NAKED ZOMBIE” will be hard.
IF, I had resisted the temptation of Borrowdale fell race on my birthday last year and prematurely ended the family holiday, it might have been me (or it might not have been!)
Either way, I am looking forward to it immensely, (but not the nightmares afterwards. I am a proper wuss who suffers from nightmares, especially after horror films, so this will be interesting!)
Pennine Way – Lessons learned.
Ambitious doesn’t come close! Long story short…
The Spine Race is a twice annual race up the Pennine Way, north to south, from Edale (Peak District) to Kirk Yetholm (Scottish Borders). 268 miles/431km with lots of lumpy bits, and even more boggy bits. The organisers have got the social media absolutely dialled! They do a daily video round-up which sucks you in (as much with the epic tales of the midfielders and tailenders, as the elite bods at the front), competitors have exactly one week to do the full distance and THEN one week later, entries open for the next year. (There is a winter Spine and a summer Spine).
Photo courtesy of thespinerace.com
For a split nanosecond, I was on the website hovering over the “Enter now” button, but thankfully an instant reality check told me that I could not afford, nor justify the entry fee for a week long jolly, in winter, that I most probably wouldn’t finish. (I will get my Raynaud’s syndrome in as my first excuse and generally being crap in winter as a follow-up!)
It sells out very fast…
Photo courtesy of thespinerace.com
So, following a conversation on a running chat group, someone said “Why don’t we just do it ourselves?” and from saying yes to that, the idea and a new chat group was born!
The plan: Pennine Way, north to south, from Kirk Yetholm to Hardwaw/Hawes. 161 miles, over 3 days and 3 nights. Not exactly stopping for a good long kip anywhere, but stealing opportunist naps wherever. That was the plan and the months whizzed by and suddenly it was time time to: a) Pack. b) Go.
Part (a) was problematic. Even with super skimmed down kit, I had a CHUNK of gear. I skimmed it down even more to bare bones, but sufficient/survivalist.
Part (b) wasn’t straightforward either. I had a 20 litre box full of food and cooking kit ready to burst at the seams, plus a holdall with camping kit for the end of the trip and all my running kit. I wanted to do as much as possible of the trip on public transport, so the first leg, walking to the Coastliner bus stop to York was helped by the girls helping me lug my load to the Leeds Arms/Broken Bridge.
Then, after flitting between platforms at York Station, I boarded the Berwick-upon-Tweed bound train and finally met my compadres (two of whom I had only met once, the others only in Whatsappland. So it was great to finally meet and chat about the epic in front of us.
A mini bus took us to the final border outpost village/town of Kirk Yethom where we frittered away the afteroon in the Border Pub, run by an exuberant Italian man, who tried to ply us with complimentary Limoncello (being a self righteous teetotaller, I had to politely decline this kind offer!)
Jo and Diane were away at 5pm. Sinead and I were off at 6pm. Christine was setting off at first light. Nathan was away by 6pm.
All of us were conscious of a big storm coming in over the Cheviots around 1am.
This was to be my first downfall.
The Cheviots were a delight. Windy but not cold, rolling grassy fells, a gorgeous sunset and into the night. The rain started around 1am…
In a nutshell, I wussied out after 40 miles, for a number of reasons but mainly the weather, and the fact that I am just crap in the cold these days. (I used to be tougher, but I genuinely think that running in the very different climate(s) in Peru has buggered my thermostat. I revel in the heat and shrivel in the cold!) All is revealed in the video at the foot of the page. Big THANK YOU to Sinead for her amazing organisation and to Jo, Elaine, Christine, Nathan and the amazing support drivers, Ian and Rebecca. Marsden folk are tougher than the old boots stacked outside the Border Hotel at the (northern) end of the Pennine Way!
Onward to Ennerdale
My early departure from the PW left me in limbo. Suddenly I found myself in June, with less than 8 weeks until the Lakeland 50. The thought of sunshine and warmth in June is the ONLY thing that keeps me going throughout the long winter months. The Ennerdale Horseshoe is one of my all time favourite races. It is one of the Long Lakeland Classics and has a long history, but for some reason it is not an especially “busy” race, compared to the likes of Borrowdale in August, or Langdale in October. My mate Baz summed it up nicely, “The last 6 miles are good, fast, easy running, but it’s the first 18 miles that are tricky!”
2023 and buzzing on KMC gel
24 miles with just short of 6000ft of up and down. Nor essentially a horseshoe, more of an elongated out and back. Starting at the Scout Camp at the blobby end of Ennerdale Water, one goes straight up the bulk of Great Bourne, skirting round to Red Pike, down the steep bit of High Crag, contouring the back of Haystacks, dibbing at Blackbeck Tarn, an uphill stroll to Green Gable, round the back/front of it’s greater, loftier neighbour Great Gable, straight up Kirk Fell (confusing in the clag), down “Joss’s Gully, straight up Pillar, then a tricky bit of nav round Scoat Fell to Haycock and then a straightforward sprint (or an endless death march if you’ve burtn all your matches) over Iron Crag, a hop, skip and a jump up Crag Fell and then a delightful freefall down to one last uphill bit and home, to the ample catering of the Scouts, with ice pops and sausage rolls galore!
Finlay Wild is the man who can!
A part time GP from Fort William, I would stick my giraffe neck out to say that Finlay is currently the best long/rough stuff fell runner in the UK. He has won the Ben Nevis race every year since he was a toddler. He beat 2nd place by 20 minutes, and the lads following him are among the best of the rest! He was probably finished, changed, fed, watered and half way back up to Bonny Scotland by the time I lumbered in. In a marathon, I reckon I would be within an hour of Kipchoge (best marathon runner in the World?) So, the fact that I was 2hrs behind FW shows that a) I am a crap fellrunner & he is an outstanding fellrunner. b) I am better at road running, but I shouldn’t really have the audacity to compare myself (in a favourable light) to Kipchoge!
(Close to the start, big thank you to Peter Trainor for the photo).
My race went well-ish. The forecast had been bordeline catastrophic all week, but wasn’t that bad on the day. I was expecting a right royal drowning, but just got a bit damp!
A delicate balance of pacing to get under the cut-offs/saving a bit in the tank, until Pillar and then upping it for the runnable bit!
All was ok until going astray in the clag on Kirk Fell. My Strava map shows my clueless wanderings.
A bit of map and compass work and a most fortunate momentary clearing of the clouds showed me a handful of runners heading to the checkpoint from a very different direction, (Kirk Fell is a confusing lump).
Back on track and running with a lass from Helm Hill who I had coincidentally also ran with from exactly the very same spot last year, we took a perfect line to Haycock.
After Haycock the going gets better and better (less rocks) but one sneaky boulder snipered me coming off Crag Fell, with a crashing, no-time-to-get-hands-out faceplant, when I took my eye off the ball mometarily.
However this was minor league compared to the guy who passed me an had a cheese rolling somersault shocker.
I stopped to check he was ok, fearing that he was going to be a bad way, but he just got up with a quick “nothing happened” and limped home.
(Final descent, thank you to Peter Trainor for the photo).
Sub 6hrs was sadly just out of my reach, but I properly emptied the tank and finished in my 2nd fastest time ever and then ate my weight in vegan sausage rolls (didn’t realise they were vegan, I am not vegan and they tasted meaty to me).
After a 3hr drive straight afterwards, I needed a crane to get out of the car and felt like my quads had been run over by King Kong in a steamroller until about Wednesday. Overall, a very pleasing run 😊
What’s next?
The next big gig is helping out Felix on his Bob Graham Round. Felix is a Dark Peaker, DPFR have an annual crack at the BGR and “The Green Machine” is an impressive force of nature. I cannot wait to get back on leg 4 after not being back to Yewbarrow since 2009!
Limited time/options are then leading me to the Wasdale Horseshoe A race I love, although possibly not ideal 2wks before the Lakeland 50, but it is the classic of classics! Unmissable.
I was originally considering baling from thr L50, especially as I had paid £14 extra for “insurance”, but “changing one’s mind” is not covered and therefore short of the world stopping spinning, (in which case a 50 miles trail race would not be a priority of mine or anyone), the insurance looks a trickier minefield than the race itself, so barring my legs dropping off, I will be there.
Raiders round-up
The mighty Raiders were in storming form, until May. After a trio of impressive victories, there was a draw against Batley and then a loss away at Toulouse (no pun given) and then another loss Vs. the Flatcappers of Fev Rovers. Coming up next are Sheffield Eagles at home, Hunslet away and then a tussle with the in-form Bradford Bulls. We have dropped down to 6th spot, so every match is a cup final now. COYR!!!
And finally…
To film, or not to film? In races, I have a bit of an inner turmoil about this topic. Under race conditions, shouldn’t one be going as fast as possible, with minimum “faff”? Maybe, maybe not? If it was the Olympic 100m final, I would say definitely “no filming”. If I was coming back from injury or just having a “steady” race, maybe I would get my camera out. On the Pennine Way, the original plan was 160 miles, almost non-stop, but not a race. Filming along the way wasn’t difficult or too time consuming, but as I bombed out very early, it was an unfinished film project.
That is where I give thanks to my mates from Marsden, as they were tougher than me and thanks to some of their footage, I managed to amateurishly stitch in enough content to finish the story. Hurrah!
So here it is:
That’s all for now folks. Hasta la proxima, Johnny
p.s. Charity shop DVD find of the century! I have been after this for years 🙂
This is a mini-blog-ette. Not a full blow ramble-on-a-thon, just a lightning quick write-up of the grand day out that is THE OLD COUNTY TOPS FELL RACE.
Other stuff.
The gorgeous summer-like-spring, (but we do need some rain!) A successful and semi-enjoyable car boot sale (after saing “NEVER AGAIN” at Rufforth in winter 2004).
The Old County Tops
I was born (a long time ago) in Westmor(e)land, in 1974, Westmorland (Wrestling in long johns with fancy undercrackers) joined forces with Cumberland (sausages, mmm) and Furness (Barrow RLFC) to form the mighty CUMBRIA.
All of which was reversed 2 years ago, when Cumbria reverted back to the old 3 counties, a rant I won’t even begin here.
The Old County Tops are the highest points in each county. In Westmorland it was/is Helvellyn, in Cumberland it was/is Scafell Pike and in Furness it was/is Coniston Old Man. In 1988 Achille Ratti Climbing Club hatched the idea of linking up all 3 tops in a fell race, starting and finishing in Great Langdale with a distance of 37 miles and 10,000ft of up and down, (59.5km with 3049m of climbing). A grand day out!
My mate John and I had chatted about having a crack at the race a while ago. It is the longest A race in the FRA calendar and was planned as my “A” race of the year. Up to April things were going well, then the usual suspects (niggles and dodgy guts) started rearing their ugly heads and suddenly it was time for kick-off, now or never!
We went up to Great Langdale on the Friday night, the A65 stretched out 105 miles into a 4.5hr journey, but we were there. Me running, the girls marshalling/helping out. The Langdale hut was a hive of activity.
Dawn dawned into a beautiful day.
There is a VIDEO at the foot of the page, so I won’t bore you with a blow-by-blow account here, but it was an awesome day out.
Busy Bees at Cockley Beck feed station.
The race is expertly organised by ARCC and it was an extra bonus to see the girls at Cockley Beck, (they were working on the feed station).
Windy on the tops and hot in the valleys, we played the long game.
After chasing the cut-offs, we got in under the 12 hours to get our well earned OCT T-shirts and less than 24hrs later, we had agreed to go back next year. Sub 10 hours maybe 🙂
Pennine Way North…
Providing my knee is moving and my trench foot has cleared up (big ask), a week on Wednesday I will be running/walking/stumbling/rolling/hallucinating my way down the Pennine Way from Kirk Yetholm to Hawes.
How will it go? I have absolutely no idea at all. Watch this space!
Raiders round-up
After a last minute draw away against Batley, the mighty Raiders are in 4th position in the league. A tough trip away at Toulouse (hopefully with a win) this weekend.
The Raiders ladies started their Superleague campaign at the weekend, but got off to a bad start with a defeat away at Leigh. No easy games in the top flight.
And finally…
A video that took longer to make than it took to run. My on-the-run effort, filmed on my phone, trotting round the Old County Tops with my mate John, on a glorious sunny day. We’ll be back next year!
Thank you for reading/watching. Until the next time.
Here is the latest write-up of events that is the jumbled nonsense which I call my blog. No messing around this month, let’s just crack on with it.
Evaporating April!
Where did it go? After the “glacier-in-reverse” speed of January, (definitely not helped by being paid mid December), February cruised, March sprinted and April positively disappeared. Whilst typing this out in a mini-heatwave and wishing that it would last forever (spoiler – it won’t), having seen the reservoirs up on the parched moors, there is a part of me wishing for rain, but only during the week and at night please!
Up the road…
I have been lucky with travelling. I lived in Western Australia as a youngster (& blagged my way into a job as a kind-of-chef in Sydney as a young man), Lina and I drove to Mongolia in our little silver Micra, I somehow survived living in Peru for a few years and I went round the world on a £997 RTW ticket, what an absolute bargain that was.
However, I am THEE most hopless tourist, best exemplified by the fact that I never actually got to Macchu Picchu!
I am a Cumbrian, I was born in what was (& now is) Westmorland. I am blindly loyal to the Lake District. The Berlingo pulls northwards towards the A1/A66 whenever I drive anywhere else and I would chop off both little fingers and both little toes to move back there.
HOWEVER, my favourite place in the whole world is the Scottish Highlands.
This love affair began in 1986 when I went on a winter mountaineering trip in 1986 to “The Great Wilderness” between Kinlochewe and Dundonnell. People say they are “blown away” by places, events or experiences, it was more than that for me, I was completely enchanted.
Yes, it is a long drive and yes, the traffic around Loch Lomond can be a right royal pain in the ar$e, but I love it up there. My favourite trip of all time remains as the one I did on my trusty old Honda C90 in 2014. 1500 miles in 10 days on a budget of £100, (did it with 5p to spare!)
Put simply, I will drop everything for the chance of a trip up north.
So, when my mate John mentioned a trip to Kintail, I was there.
Obsessing over the weather at a time when it had been glorious, but looked to turn crap, we actually lucked out with the weather and despite monsoons in Glasgow, had 2 fine, dry days. Staying at the outstanding Ratagan Hostel (cheaper than the local campsite at £28 per night, with the best showers I have ever had), we had 2 days on the hills, (The Scots call them “hills”, but they are bloody big hills!)
Day 1: The Five Sister & Four Brothers of Kintail.
Day 2: The Forcan Ridge and The Saddle.
Day 1 was longer, day 2 was spicier!
The Five Sisters is an outstanding roller-coaster ridge rider of a day out & best of all, we only saw one person all day. After the first mile/3000ft of climbing, it is a joy, the views are both panoramic and aerial. I lost count of the times I said “What a day!” Thankfully the van was still there at the Cluanie Inn at the end.
The Forcan Ridge is a different day out… On paper it looked shorter (as it was) and apart from a bit of scrambling, fairly straightforward, (which it was, straightforward apart from “a bit of scrambling”).
On a sunny, warm day, it would be an amazing walk. Although it was clear, it had turned very windy and the wind seemed to be coming from an Eskimo’s freezer in the North Pole! Fellrunning (hill running north of the border) is sometimes marginal, especially regarding kit (choice). If you do venture out onto the hills, especially as a runner, although watching YouTube videos does not substitute experience, if you have 4 minutes and haven’t watched THIS VIDEO, watch it now:
(Even better, if you have 10mins, watch the extended version, it might just save your bacon and/or make you think, whilst packing your bumbag (fanny pack for American subscribers!)
Back to the Forcan Ridge.
After a steady climb, the ridge bares its teeth fairly soon, then tricks you into thinking that the tricky bit is behind you, when it is not!
Definitely not a day for loitering and most definitely not a place where you would want a fall! We were only a couple of miles from the road, if you fell off the south side of the ridge, you might as well be on the moon! John and I are both experienced mountaingoers, and John is an A&E nurse, so I was in safe hands, (I had a St.John’s First Aid course 20 years ago, I have experience with paper cuts!)
Edward Whymper’s wise words were going round my mind:
“Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nought without prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of a lifetime. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what may be the end.”
Only a Grade 2 scramble, but a bit dicey on an icy day. After the ridge, the rest was plain sailing and we cooked up future plans, before waiting an extrordinarily long time for some tucker at a not especially busy local boozer. It was like a Scottish Fawlty Towers.
Next day, I had an appointment at a local (Yorkshire, not Highlands) Optician to have my ears looked at on the Thursday, as I had gone deaf in my right ear a few weeks previous. A week of Otex Express (useless) and a week of intense Olive Oiling (marginally better) had lined me up for a 4:30pm appointment. Rising at 5am, away by 6am, home by 3pm. I rang to check and was told that my appointment was actually the week after Ironically, my phone rang soon after but I didn’thear it. By the time I saw the missed call and rang the Opticians back I was told that they had had a cancellation, but that I was too late.
I did go for my ears sucking out the week after and had enough wax to start up a candle factory and learned more than I ever knew about my Tinnitus, which although it will never go away, it can be managed without losing one’s mind!
With hearing restored, after a cracking Caledonian trip, my thoughts started drifiting to future trips to the fells/hills…
P.S. A not too welcome souvenir. One of seven ticks exported from Kintail, horrible little beggars!
“Training”
Thishas become a competely running-centric blog, so I won’t bore you here with a blow-by-blow account of my training diary.
I will only mention “The Carb Revelation”
Also Doni’s uphill treadmill revolution, a very cheap road bike from a man near Whitby (tied in with a day trip which was planned before the bike acquisition).
A half price Halford’s turbo trainer justified by the sale of some tat from my shed, cross training (even bloody swimming, which I hate) and sidestepping the Eskdale Elevation, to hopefully make sure my legs are intact for…
O.C.T.
The Old County Tops Fell Race.
“Held in May, The Old County Tops Fell Race covers 37 miles and involves around 10,000 feet of ascent.
The exact distance and amount of ascent are dependant on the route you choose!
The Race starts in Great Langdale and takes in the tops of Helvellyn, Scafell Pike and Coniston before returning to Great Langdale, after which the competitors are fed and watered.”
That is how it is described on the race website. It sounds like a jolly day out when you read it, but after helping out on the feed station (not common in fell races, which are mainly self-sufficient affairs, where you might get a swig of water or a couple of jelly babies from a friendly marshal), and seeing the state (& disparity/decline) of some runners, I know very well that it is one of the hardest fell races in the calendar.
One big difference abou this race is that it is run in pairs. And finding a well matched partner is not that straightforward. It is not just about fitness, although both runners have to be fit. It is also about mountaincraft, navigation, “admin” (keeping your $h!t together with feeding, drinking and all that stuff which if neglected will mean the wheels will fall off). In my eyes, (as a competitor, but not a podium challenger/record breaker), one of the most important things is to find someome who you get on with. Someone who you can take the mickey out of/have the mickey taken out of you by, who you kind of know when they go quiet, do they want to have their ear chewed off or do they want a bit of P&Q.
For all the reasons above, that is why John & I are teamed up for the OCT. It is going to be a BIG day out 🙂
John & I did a brilliant (crack, but maybe not brillliant weather, we got our asses wupped by Storm Babbet) trip a while back which can be seen/summarised here:
On the Way.
What started as a daydream will most likely be a reality by the time of the next blog. The “Northern Challenge” is our little adventure running, jogging, walking, crawling and hallucinating along the top half of the Pennine Way, southwards from Kirk Yetholm (Scottish Borders) to Hardraw (near Hawes). When I say “our”, I refer to a very hardy bunch of athletes from Marsden and myself (maybe not so hardy).
Sinead is the brains behind the organisation and (extremely complex) logistics and support. I did once do the road support for a P&B Bob Graham Round with a clubmate called Boff, and it was simply a case of being at the 4 road crossings on a circular-ish route at a certain time, with a bootful of running kit, pasta, pasties and drinks. Tiring, but only lasting 24 hours, with runners either being there and carrying on, or being there and dropping out!
The PW will be different as it is linear (A-to-B) and we may well be strung out like the washing, meaning headaches for road support.
I haven’t done anything near this distance (ever) and haven’t done any mega-long stuff (100 miles, which I only did once) for many, many years, so it is into the unknown a bit and will be entirely on-the-hoof experimental when it comes to eating and sleeping, but it is good to try something that you know there is a good chance that you might not be able to do!
Second in the league and flying high with confidence and results. Success is not a regular bedfellow of our’s at Craven Park. Since our Challenge Cup victory (a while ago in 1955), it has been lean pickings. League Two champions in 2004 and Championship Grand Final winners in 2009 (what a match that was). That is the sum of victories since 1875. 150 years!
However, this season, 8 games in, things have been different and although we never take victories lightly, the team spirit has been nothing short of phenomenal. Let’s hope we can hold the form for the next 16 matches/until September!
And finally.
My mate John is what is known as a YouTuber. He makes high quality, entertaining videos of forays into the fells, and most of all, people (3000 subscribers) watch and enjoy them! (One of his videos has had 188,000 views!)
At the other end of the scale, there is me! I have 45 subscribers and have had a total of 8751 views, and I think that is including me watching my own videos.
The difference is that he knows what he is doing 🙂
On our Scotland trip, I took along my camera for posterity. It is purely a point and shoot capture of a day out. So here is the ladfromtad.com vlog for your entertainment
That’s all for now folks! Hasta la proxima amigos 🙂
Johnny
p.s. Thanks to John for the Scotland pics (his are the good ones, my camera is diabolical). Less pics than usual this month, lost my new hard drive, d’oh!
LADFROMTAD.COM 