2023 Summer Spine Race Report - Part 1

The thought of doing the Summer Spine Race has been there somewhere in my conscience for more than three years now. But it wasn't until I took the plunge, and added my name to the roster 12 months ago, that the serious work of getting Spine ready began. With the limited time I had available I trained hard, increasing my milage to new heights. Nevertheless, as someone who is a complete amateur runner, with no coaching or professional input, I had no idea if I had prepared myself well enough to complete the full 268 mile distance. But that’s what makes for an exciting adventure.

As predicted I didn’t sleep too well the night before the race but fortunately I had banked a good amount of sleep during the week so I didn’t let it bother me. Despite the 90 minute car journey, our three boys wanted to come along to see the start of the race, which was lovely. So, Abby woke the kids bright and early early on Sunday morning and we handed them bags of dry cereal as we fastened them into their car seats.

I’d already been from Morley to Edale and back the day before for registration and kit check, so all that was left to do was hand over my sizeable drop bag, have my tracker fitted, and head to the start line for a photo with the kids. The organisation by the whole team was seamless, which would be a recurring theme of the event.

Steady Away

After a typically low key address by Kevin McCann, one of the excellent Spine team, we were sent on our way at 8am prompt. High fives exchanged with the family as I crossed the start line and off we went through Edale village towards the first ascent to the Kinder plateau.

My focus for the Summer Spine Race was simple - complete it. To this point, the 108 mile Summer Challenger was the longest race I had completed, so the step up was huge and I was unsure how my body would react. When pressed, I had told friends that it would be good to finish in under five days. Kirk Yetholm was far from my thoughts, though, as we moved unhurriedly towards Jacob's Ladder. My plan was to go steady away, get through the first 150 miles and then we’ll see. The first 150 miles! Gulp.

I enjoyed chatting with Jenny Yeo and Laura Stanton-Rouvelin in these early sections as we went to-and-fro. I picked up some good tips from Laura, who is a Winter Spine finisher. It was clear even at this stage that both Laura and Jenny were focussed on the task ahead. I, on the other hand, lost focus and took a heavy fall on an innocuous flat bit of trail just after Torside Reservoir, taking the skin off my knee. This felt like a wake up call. No harm was done, but it hit me that one little mistake could easily result in a DNF. Concentrate!

As we ascended Laddow Rocks Laura pushed on ahead with a clear mission in mind. Jenny and I swapped places multiple times as we traversed Black Hill, Wessenden Head and Standedge, before a welcome visit to Nicki’s Food Van on the M62 crossing. I had anticipated enjoying a burger here but some coke, a banana and a cup of coffee were just the ticket. At this stage Jenny also disappeared impressively into the distance. I resolved to let them both go, sensing that they were competing for top place finishes. “Steady to 150 miles” I reminded myself “then we’ll see”.

Throughout day one the humidity was oppressive. I tend to ‘run hot’ so found it to be quite uncomfortable conditions. Thankfully I was able to take on regular food and fluid without problem, which would continue to be blessing throughout the race. After Blackstone Edge and multiple reservoirs I had Stoodley Pike in my sights. Feeling the air pressure change I turned to see heavy clouds gathering ominously behind me. This was the thunder storm we had been promised and I didn’t fancy experiencing it on the top of the hill with running poles in hand. I quickened the pace towards CP1 at Hebden Hey but the extra exertion left me feeling nauseous and I was reduced to a march for the last few miles. I was caught, at this point, by Jules Ayres who was kind enough to check up on me but gave me enough space to be grumpy. We arrived at the checkpoint just in time for the heavens to open. Impeccable timing.

As I faffed with kit, restocked my bag, and ate pasta we welcomed a steady stream of soggy runners with warm smiles and some gentle banter. They were invariably stoic and good humoured about it all.

Into the night to save the day

I didn’t know as I departed CP1 that I was in 10th place and at the head a long, drawn out procession of people who were setting out into the first night. This was where I experienced one of the more traumatic moments of my Spine. In the fading light I saw a decent sized sheep poo on the paving slab in front of me. Keen to not slip on it I lengthened my stride to nimbly skip over it. In that exact moment the “sheep poo” hopped up in fright. Whack! I inadvertently volleyed a frog. An excellent low drive from the edge of the box. It flew a good distance through the air on a low trajectory before skidding to a leathery halt. Fortunately both the frog and I regained our composure. He hopped off into the heather and I tip-toed along the trail doing my best to avoid the plague of kamikaze amphibians for the rest of the night.

Later on heading over Pinhaw Beacon I would spook an adder that had settled on the trail. When I saw a mole and a hedgehog the next day I did begin to wonder if I was just reliving the traumatic childhood experience of The Animals of Farthing Wood. If you know, you know.

The only person I saw that night was Jules who I chatted with briefly at Ponden Reservoir. He needed a rest so I pressed on alone up to Ickonshaw Moor which, for reasons unknown to me, has always been a favourite part of the route despite it being largely featureless.

“Three villages” I kept repeating to myself as I progressed through Cowling, Lothersdale, and Thornton-in-Craven. All three blur into one in my mind but ticking them off the list helped me to focus in the dark.

As light dawned on day two I arrived in the lovely town of Gargrave, but barely able to keep my eyes open. Unfortunately I was too early for shops to be open but thankfully the toilet facilities had been left unlocked. After a quick visit I unpacked my bivvy bag and curled up on the sheltered bench hoping that a power nap would stop me falling asleep on my feet.

I woke 4 minutes later to the sound of a heavy articulated lorry flying past and opened my eyes to see Soonseng Ong coming along the road. Feeling perkier, I jumped up, packed my gear and went with him up the road. I relished the chance to chat to someone for the first time in a while. Soonseng had traveled from Malaysia especially for this race and I enjoyed his company as we moved along the valley, navigating fields of feisty calves, though Airton and into Malham. As I stopped to fill up water Soonseng pressed on ahead of me to await my arrival at Malham Tarn CP1.5. Here I was grateful for some boiling water to hydrate my Firepot porridge (extra sugar required to make it palatable), and a large cup of tea. I set off solo with porridge in hand.

I have no memory of Fountains Fell or the Pen-y-ghent scramble.

When I did the Summer Challenger in 2021 my quads were finished by the time I reached the horrible descent off Pen-y-gent, so it gave me a boost of confidence to descend without too much trouble. During that race I also got horribly dehydrated on the final leg to Hardraw so I filled up my 2lt bladder and two soft flasks at the tap outside the Horton toilets before having a 3 minute nap on the grass under the shade of a tree.

The heat of the next section from Horton to Hardraw was borderline intolerable. With the sun at my back for the next few hours I was lathering on sun cream but my pasty skin was burning none the less. The route is exposed with very few options for shade, there was zero breeze and I only found one water source to dip my hat in. Worse of all, the back of my calves had some sort of reaction to the sun cream and I came out in a blotchy rash. I was in a state, walking slowly and feeling quite desperate as I noticed the signed of heat stroke setting in. I wasn't sweating, at all. “THINK, Phil! Find a solution!”. Realising that the only way out of the heat was to move faster and get to CP2, I resolved to pick up the pace, but not before tying a spare buff round each calf to protect them from the sun. Up Cam High Road, over the top, down through Hawes and into the campsite that was CP2.

Breaking new ground

Arriving in Hardraw at about 7.20pm I didn’t see evidence of any other runners. I resolved to stay for 3 hours. 1 hour to cold down, eat and hydrate. 1 hour of sleep in a tent. 1 hour to eat more, sort my kit and have a little bit of tape put on the soles of my feet, which were beginning to feel a little tender. At this stage I also changed my Hoka Torrent 2s (my go-to trail shoe) for Mafate Speed 4s as I’d planned pre-race.

As I walked out of camp I felt a sense of satisfaction that I had now run further than ever before. Sticking to my 150 mile plan, though, I had been very disciplined about not looking on the tracker or asking about race position. Looking back now I can see that as I headed towards Great Shunner Fell in the fading light I was in 9th place. The eventual race winner, Dave Phillips, was over 40 miles ahead and approaching Dufton. Incredible! Following behind, Pete Mortimer and Rory Bevin were already at Middleton, at least 11 hours ahead of me.

As the light faded over Great Shunner Fell my movement was painfully slow. I struggled to keep my eyes open as I navigated the technical terrain between Thwaite and Keld, attempting a few power naps but with little success. I had been hallucinating regularly, seeing faces everywhere, lots of shire horses and a small band of upright elephants playing musical instruments. On my approach to Tan Hill I was reduced to a sorry stagger. Noting the beautiful sunrise, I asked the crew at Tan Hill if I could sleep there for an hour. They, rightly, said no. I had a 5 minute (I think) snooze on the comfy leather sofa and felt much better as I headed out. This was where I made my first mistake of the week, leaving my head torch behind on the bar table. Doh!

Unaware of my error, this was actually the moment my Spine experience shifted for the better. I had a chat with myself out loud “Look, either you can keep moving like this and hope to get to Scotland by the end of the month, or you can do what you came to do and actually run”. The usually boggy stretch from Tan Hill was perfectly dry and runnable, so I set off on an optimistic jog. My friends Dan and Kamil call me Pheggl (don’t ask). For reasons unknown to me I began to shout to myself “What are we doing Pheggl?”. “We’re running to Middleton!”, I responded. This all seems ridiculous witten down, but something shifted. Repeating the question to myself periodically, I was moving more fluidly than I had in the first two days. “We’re running to Middleton!”

And I did.

Middleton

I was delighted to arrive at CP3 Middleton feeling relatively fresh and energised. I was more than surprised to see both Jenny and Laura there getting ready to head back out. I had made some progress. The CP team at Middleton were incredible. I had a beautiful chicken korma for breakfast, waved the leading female runners off before having a 1.25 hour sleep on a proper bed! Sooooo good.

This is when one of the lovely volunteers, Paul, informed me of my head torch error. The amazing Spine team had sprung into action to get the offending item sent up the course to me. Peter very kindly lent me his head torch in the meantime. Thank you!

I couldn't depart without asking Hannah Rickman for some Winter Spine tips. She wisely told me to concentrate on getting this one done first. With that in mind, I said goodbye to Middleton with my legs feeling fresh and ready to hit the trails. The temperature had dropped and there was rain in the air. For me, that was good news.

Finding Flow

The stretch West from Middleton to Dufton includes some of the most impressively beautiful parts of the Pennine Way. I didn't take any time to enjoy low or high force, but you have little option but to take it the full majesty of Cauldron Snout. As I scrambled up, picking a route high to the right, a hiker coming the other way told me I looked strong and was moving well. I know this is a thing people just say, but I chose to accept him at his word and carried his compliment with me. Never underestimate the power of a simple but heartfelt encouragement. It was on the approach to another spectacular view at High Cup Nick that I came across American runner Kevin Hadfield. Kevin was struggling with his feet due to the persistent wetness and was moving slowly at this stage. Kevin assured me that he had all the supplies he needed as I pressed on. I realised that Kevin was the first person I had actually passed on the trail since Ponden, a full 100 miles earlier!

The feeling of actually moving past someone seemed to awaken something new in me. On the descent to Dutton I found a flow and opened up my stride. This was the running I came to do. To my surprise I came across a second Spiner on the descent, Rob Moor, who expressed his own surprise at seeing me. “I thought you were just someone out for a run” he said. “I guess I am, technically” was my not so witty response.

In Dufton I took off my wet gear in the toilets, put on fresh socks and dried my T-shirt under the hand driers. There in the gents, I took stock. I’d made it to 150 miles still feeling in relatively good shape. I was well fed and hydrated. My feet were sore, but no more than expected. From what others were telling me, I was in 7th place. However, I had come to the limit of my course knowledge having never recced North of Dufton. From here on I was heading into unknown terrain on an unknown adventure that would push me much further than I’d ever been before.

I’d got to 150 miles.

Now, we’ll see...