So what went wrong – Part Two?

“Spine Runner Heading North!” was the shout from the marshal as I left Checkpoint Two. It was answered with cheers and shouts of encouragement from the other volunteers and competitors and gave me a tingle down my spine (where else – this is the Spine Race after all). Partly this was because cheers and encouraging words never cease to have a positive effect on me, but mainly because this was the point at which I became a Spine Runner. Up until now I was running the same course as Sprint competitors for the first leg and Challengers for the first two. This was the first leg that was the exclusive province of full Spine Racers. This is in no way intended to suggest that Sprinters or Challengers had an easier task, they were different races run in a different way to the full, but now I was exclusively running with people heading for Kirk Yetholm.

Before I continue, there were a few errors towards the end of the last blog post. My blogs are like a very bad run, you wish they were over but you want to get to the end. At least that’s what writing them feels like so the end can be a little rushed. Firstly the checkpoint was actually in Hardraw, not Hawes, Hardraw is the finsih point of the Challenger Race. Secondly, I appeared to forget I was at CP2 and suggested this would be all about CP3 to CP4 – sorry, you are getting the CP2 to CP3 section first.

So this leg was one I was quite excited about as I would pass the Tan Hill Inn – the UK’s highest pub. I was hoping to get a drink in it and was fairly optimistic about arriving there before 10pm – not that I had any idea what the opening hours were, or indeed if it was even open. In line with the common theme of this race, the Pennine Way had other ideas. The terrain included some steep climbs and narrow stone littered paths. however there were also some relatively easy sections on which I could make good time. I should apologise at this point for the vagueness of much of my narrative, it is now almost two weeks since I started, over a week since I pulled out, and much has happened in between – although in the last week mostly I’ve been eating and sleeping.

Eventually I was on Stonesdale Moor, the underfoot conditions were good and I was pushing hard (at this point ‘pushing hard’ actually means getting up to a little over 4 miles per hour but it felt hard). I realised I wasn’t going to make it for 10pm but maybe 10:30 would be OK? I looked up and saw a building with bright pulsing lights on the outside. This wasn’t a hallucination though, this was the Tan Hill Inn! Surely if the lights were on the pub must be open, right?

I reached the Inn, burst through the doors and incoherently asked if I was in time for a pint of Coke? Yes! Not just a pint of Coke but a free pint as one of the gentleman at the bar bought it for me when I explained what I was doing.

I was a bit less impressive shortly afterwards when three other runners appeared and I discovered the Spine Safety Team were also in the pub in a room round the corner. No matter, I’d got my drink in the highest pub in Britain!

When I left the pub it was definitely dark so I decided to just haver a small wander round the car park before rejoining the Pennine Way… The next section was the notorious Sleightholme Moor – which actually I didn’t find at all notorious and crossed without too much drama. I had a little trouble following the path to God’s Bridge but then met up with a couple of runners that were planning on bivvying in the A66 underpass and followed them as far as there. Cotherstone Moor didn’t present too many challenges – one section was challenging to find a route that retained dry feet but I found one – and as the sun rose I found myself in good spirits.

My good spirits were possibly not appreciated by the local sheep population as I decided to sing quite a lot along the next few miles of my journey. ‘Sing’ is being a bit generous but I was making the most of the solitude and making loud noises anyway. I was brought down to earth when one sheep, instead of running away, looked at me, listened for a while, and then did the most enormous poo – I think that was the most eloquent criticism of my singing I have ever witnessed.

Mercifully for the sheep I arrived at Middleton in Teesdale and embarked on the final path towards the checkpoint. My feet were a little sore by now and it was quite hot so it took me a while to cover the last couple of miles but I was met by a marshal that guided me in to the camp where I could eat, rest and get my feet looked at again. All this was very pleasant but this begs the question – as it was so pleasant why on earth did I not stay longer and rest more?

So I’ve completed over half the race, in good spirits and things seem to be going quite well. However things were to take a darker and more frightening turn on the next part of my journey…