Flower Of Suffolk 100 - just not our day

I'd been looking forward to the FoS 100, but we've had a lot going on lately so planning wasn't well defined.

Thankfully Ipswich has lots of accommodation available (unlike Boat of Garten!) so I was able to book a room at the last minute. Driving down we sat stationary at Ferrybridge for 2 full hours after an accident in the roadworks, taking 7.5 hours to do 230 miles.

pic at CP1 courtesy of Pam Manning

On the Saturday morning we had a lazy start, but the breakfast at the hotel was a bit of a failure. We got up to the event HQ just after the 10am start and wandered in to registration. That went very smoothly and we were soon sat drinking tea.

Claire hadn't been sure she was even going to start, but in the end we had a tentative plan that she'd see how far she got, and I'd hang back with her for a little while to get a gentle start. 

While standing at the start listening to the briefing, I realised there was water running down my front. I looked at my bottle and the lid was cracked all the way round. Completely unusable. So, once every one set off, I walked off in the wrong direction to go back to the van in search of a spare bottle.

I eventually found a spare, filled it up and got going. So I was about 20 minutes behind and had already done 1.5km before I even started.

I set out aiming to keep my pace sensible. I knew I'd catch Claire up eventually as she was walking, but I wanted to keep my heart rate low for the first hour so mostly walked. After about 30-40 mins I started to catch up a few people, then eventually Claire walking briskly along and looking strong.

We walked together for a while, until we got to CP1 where we were greeted by West Yorks LDWA folks. We had a few nibbles, filled up with water then I pushed on. A few minutes later Claire caught me again as I went the wrong way up a road, then I pulled ahead again.

The route itself is a bit of a blur. It was a nice combination of field paths, woodland paths, short stretches of lane, then repeat. But each section was generally so short that it's difficult to pick out anything in my memory other than significant features. There was a wood framed church, which was very picturesque. There was an obelisk in a country park, which was interestingly historic.

Food. So, I'd been to the shops thursday and thought "rather than get jaffa cakes as small regular sugar intake, I'll just eat small bits of Naked bar". This was stupid. Why was this stupid? Because they're not even slightly equivalent, that's why. Naked bars are almost entirely fructose. This is a very bad thing.

CP 2. I don't really remember CP2.

CP3. I caught Kieran and Dianne here, stopped to change socks and have a good chat. They already had blisters but were mostly enjoying themselves.  It was absolute chaos, really really busy. Getting a water fill up/cup of tea/something to eat was difficult, and I didn't see any of the pizza that was supposed to be on the menu. I just wanted to get out of there. But this was where I should have eaten a lot more, and all I had was a little bit of soup and some rice pudding. BIG mistake.

Still, on I went. I was still having fun, and being out of the CP was much nicer. I was trundling along at a nice average, just a bit sub 9min/km. If I could keep this up long enough I'd have a good run.

CP4. Still quite crowded. I'd caught up with the main pack of 10am walkers. Crumpet pizzas were on offer, but it was "ask and be handed one on a plate a few minutes later" rather than picking things up off a table. I had one. I should probably have had 4.

On we go. Starting to get a bit confused but just like hypothermia, you don't notice it happening because your brain isn't working properly. The fact of being disoriented stops you from really noticing that you're disoriented. I checked my phone and discovered a message from Claire telling me she'd withdrawn. I learned later that although her troublesome post-tib tendon had behaved ok, she'd pulled her calf and retired at CP3. 

While I was reading the message I missed a turn, but two guys behind called me back.

Still having fun mostly. Route still the same pleasant mixture of fields, woodlands, lanes.

CP5. Spot of nausea. Ate a cheese scone. Threw it back up (apologies to the Heart of England group for that). Drank some tea, felt a bit better. Got going again. Running up the long track from the CP things were starting to hurt, including my left foot. Bit odd, never mind it's not bad.

At some point I had some malt loaf. That was difficult to swallow. Then some bar, that was also difficult to swallow. My stomach was really starting to protest.

Approaching CP6 I knew something was going badly wrong. I was weaving from side to side, bent over at the waist and slowing right down. Just like coming off Great Shunner on my 2nd failed DTT, only warm. Still really queasy.

At the CP I sat down feeling badly spaced. Everything was very very bright and the noises were weird. I spotted some coke and thought "that'll settle my stomach". 100mls of coke and that did it. Within a couple of minutes I was shivering uncontrollably.

I spent about an hour here. There was no way I was going out in the state I was in, it wouldn't have been safe. I ate a jacket potato on the advice of a walker in a yellow RRR top who turned out to be a doctor. Drank lots of coffee. Started to feel a bit better. Burbled something incoherent about the Fellsman to Julian Brown. More coffee and more kind volunteers offering me things, none of which really grabbed me. I never thought "maybe another jacket potato would be a good thing". 

On to the next one. Not feeling too bad, 6 miles then 3 to the breakfast stop. I was on OK form at the next CP, but didn't really fancy a pizza twist and was looking forward to breakfast. With hindsight I wasn't thinking straight - looking at the silvery bags of pizza made me worry about burning my mouth - obviously some half remembered past incident. My foot wasn't really bothering me much.

Little wiggly paths between trees, a really enjoyable stretch in the dark. Running OK but a bit conscious of my left foot. The power station came into sight far to my right. The wind was picking up and it was pleasantly cool. But my foot started to hurt more. I was running a bit awkwardly.

Coming into the breakfast stop I suddenly lost it completely again. Weaving, bent over, but this time limping badly.

This distinctly hauntology-esque moated mansion matched my mood

The breakfast stop looked like something from a disaster movie, especially to my badly addled brain. People lying on the floor all along the corridor. There was some kind of logistical problem with breakfast bags and a lot of bustling going on. I managed to find my bag, then lay down in the corridor for a while. Eventually I got a visit from a very sympathetic medic who offered to check my blood sugar. This is always an embarrassing thing - I'm not diabetic, but the dumping syndrome does have very similar effects. Nevertheless, I feel like a fraud or a hypochondriac with my no-formal-diagnosis, even while I'm lying on the floor dizzy and shivering. Although at this point I was probably just plain hypoglycaemic from not having eaten enough earlier in the day, along with handling multiple spikes and troughs.

By the time the poor overworked medic came back I'd started to feel OK again, at least to the extent of not being dizzy or shivering any more. But my foot was still potentially a problem - it wasn't particularly painful but sore enough to making walking difficult. It was tender over one of the tendons and he informed me that it was a soft tissue injury. He could strap it up enough for me to walk, but running was out of the question and even walking carried some risk of popping it. 

Finishing wasn't so important that I was willing to risk months of rehab, so I decided to bail out. The volunteers from the Irregulars brought coffee and toast, and eventually a bus appeared. I was helped onto the bus to find Nick Ham and a vaguely familiar looking woman who turned out to be a member of CVFR.

Back at HQ I was helped out of the bus and up the stairs with a bit more ceremony than I really felt I warranted, and settled onto a sofa to have my foot bandaged up by two helpful & friendly medics. I had a bit of a sleep then Claire appeared, and after some tea we walked very very slowly back to the van to sleep. 

As usual, I slept OK for a few hours while Claire lay awake listening to me snore. Once I was up and about we split the driving back - it wasn't comfortable to drive, but it was tolerable.We got back, had a curry and dot watched Kieran & Dianne finishing up.

So, a disappointing end to the 2025 LDWA Hundred. The combination of post event blues, post DNF blues, second guessing my own mistakes and feeling fried from multiple burnouts in one night has left me feeling pretty crap (note: at time of writing [Thursday evening] my mood is more or less stable and I'm thinking OK again). But as always there are lessons to be learned. Hundreds are never a foregone conclusion, and the tendon issue was probably outside my control even if the food issue was driven by my own mistakes. I know that foot strength/stability is a weakness, it's been quite apparent in yoga lessons, but it's taking time to improve. On the plus side, I'd completed a fairly brisk paced 50 miles and the things that stopped me going any further were things I could avoid in future.

Lessons

• Take. My. Own. Food. The last 2 LDWA 100s I've been lucky, there's been a defined "evening meal stop" with pizza. That wasn't the case this time, and I was relying on there being pizza at CP3. If there was I never saw it. I have to stop relying on CP food and self support. Salted peanuts, cashews & jaffa cakes might have made all the difference.
• Foot stability - see above. More balance exercises, more yoga. More running in barefoot shoes.
• Pacing was fine, just about right at around 9min/km
• Shoes were OK, but I might have been better with Altra Superiors. They worked well on the TP100.
• When I do wipe out really badly, take extra time to eat a lot lot more before getting moving again.
• Salt. Water tasted unpleasant. I usually spurn additional salt as unnecessary in the UK, but the hot & humid weather meant I lost a lot of salt.
• Spare kit in the van - need decent spare water bottles - they're fragile things and absolutely vital.

(post hoc lesson - it had never occurred to me that using a blood glucose meter is an OK thing to do as a non-diabetic with obvious blood sugar problems! I'd never considered it simply because I'm not diabetic. This could be an interesting new journey...)

kit list

• patagonia shorts
• UD Fastpack 15
• Columbia Outdry Ex Light
• kalenji waterproof trousers
• patagonia t shirt
• Altra Lone Peaks
• Drymax mid thickness socks
• lidded mug (sea to summit)
• compass
• printed maps & route description in map case
• glasses
• Buff soft cap
• Patagonia Terrebonne joggers
• old Lowe Alpine grid fleece
• 4000mwh powerbank
• watch cable
• Silva torch
• backup torch
• Garmin
• hat
• gloves
• buffs
• gaiters
• spare batteries for Garmin
• survival bag
• emergency food (mint cake)
• first aid kit
• skinsosoft
• loo roll in a dry bag
• spare socks (2 pairs)
• windproof gilet
  
• spork (not mandatory, but useful)
• loo roll & bags in a drysack

Breakfast bag (old Everlast sports bag)

• shorts
• underwear
• t shirt (a couple of different choices)
• shoes
• 2 pairs socks
• poles
• food

Food

Carried

• 2 Cheese scones
• Naked bars
• Kind bars
• cheese
• mini malt loaves

I eventually found the cashews I'd lost, in a box in the van.

CP

• hot cross buns at CP1
• sandwiches at CP2
• soup & rice pudding at CP3
• crumpet and yoghurt at CP4
• cheese scone at CP5
• jacket potato at CP6
• toast at CP7

Fellsman 2025

It's Fellsman time of year again. Time to dig out the poncho, count layers and plan food. Claire is waiting on an ankle operation at the moment so wasn't able to take part, which was horribly disappointing for her. She's had a succession of disappointments this year, hopefully the operation and rehab will have her back champing at the bit next April.

For my part I'd got all my kit well sorted before friday, so I was able to eat fish and chips early (about 6) and head off for about 6.30/7. By 8.15 I was at Threshfield and in the queue for kit check. When I got off the shuttle bus at the school the queue wasn't extending outside the door, which was great news. Until I got inside and discovered the organisers had wound the queue all over the school to keep us out of the rain. On the one hand, not being rained on - win. On the other... that was a very long queue.

I passed the time by doing my daily duolingo, and chatting with some of the people around me in the queue. I spotted Adrian Gosling a bit further back. He admitted to 19 previous Fellsman completions, so this will have been his 20th.

I got talking to someone about injury, and about Claire's tendon injury. She commented that she was running with her father in law who'd recently had a complete achilles tendon reconstruction. So that was reassuring.

All the photos are terrible. The romer I keep in my phone case slipped in front of the lens

Finally I got to the front of the kit check queue and was checked off. I headed back to the quarry to repack my bag, have a glass of wine and an early night.

5am came far too soon, but I'd had about 6 hours sleep. I'd forgotten the moka pot, but found a couple of coffee bags in a box in the van. At least I was able to have a hot drink and some pain au chocolat for breakfast before catching the bus. I dropped my finish bag off at the sports hall and was just on my way out of the door when I bumped into Bob, and nearly missed my bus assignment through chatting. Rushing off I got on the bus with a couple of minutes to spare, and slept again for most of the journey to Ingleton.

At Ingleton I did the rest (photo ID, number, tracker, tally). I'd forgotten money for tea, so found a chair and went back to sleep for a while. Karen appeared, looking for candidates for a team. She didn't seem too keen on my "probably somewhere around 20 hours", although that pessimistic estimate turned out unrealistic.

Finally we were out on the field and ready to go. It was a bit odd and unpleasant being on my own here for the first time in a long while. The puppeteer who had recently done a long distance path in a curlew costume to raise awareness of curlew conservation was there, in costume. It was a beautiful piece of work.

There was a minute's silence in tribute to two long time Fellsman volunteers who passed away this year, one being Phil 'Bandy' Lucas (anyone who passed through Dent CP in previous years would probably remember Bandy).

We got underway about 0840 or so. I was determined to keep my pace down this year, and set off from the field very slowly and near the back. I kept to a fast walk with very little running all the way up through Crina Bottom and onto Ingleborough.

On Ingleborough I ran slowly across the plateau, seeing one person taking the alternative route Karen had talked about that leaves the plateau early.

Being further back in the field makes the descent down the rocky path to Humphrey Bottom much nicer. In previous years I've had people close behind me and wanting to get past. This time I was able to relax a bit. There was ample opportunity to speed up later.

On to the Hill Inn CP, where I filled up with water and grabbed half a cheese scone out of my bag. On the way down the road I saw Julian heading back uphill - he'd forgotten his poles on leaving the CP.

As usual on the way up Whernside I was thinking I was surprisingly tired already, and how was I going to get all that way round. I was climbing OK though, and my average pace was still hovering around the 10min/km mark - just where I wanted it at this stage.

I didn't try to run at all on the climb up to Whernside, then took a gentle run down to the stile to cross into Kingsdale. At one point I picked up the pace a little to overtake a few people who seemed like they weren't comfortable on the rough ground, then kept my pace steady.

At the wall crossing I stopped to grab a piece of malt loaf & cheese, then headed downhill. It was unusually dry, right up to the point where I sank knee deep in a huge bog.

At the bottom I stayed to the left of the stream a bit too long, but it was a trivial delay and gave me chance to wash some bog off my hands. At the CP I filled up with water and dug some nuts and more malt loaf out of my bag.

I was chatting with a couple of runners on the way up. They mentioned a schedule and admitted to a target of 18 hours, so I was in roughly the right place.

At the top of Gragareth I visited the CP, then headed along the ridge. It was windless and comfortable, I still had my windproof gilet on but I was very glad I'd opted for shorts.

Great Coum, and on down to Flinter Gill. Obviously this wasn't going to be bog free, but it wasn't too bad. Someone ahead of me w
as leaving gates open. I closed some, and in other places there was someone close enough behind not to bother.

Coming down into Dent I stuck to the approved route as usual. When I got to the CP I was greeted by the volunteer with the clippers with

"I recognise you from somewhere"

"I live in Mytholmroyd"

"That'll be it".

A quick kit check, all my kit was easily accessible, and a visit to the table to grab a cup of tea and a couple of cheese rolls. There was a big tribute to Bandy on the tent side. I later heard they'd scattered his ashes up there and planted a tree in his memory, so he got to do his 40th year there after all.

Out onto the road, and I maintained a steadyish pace, occasionally stopping to drink my tea. Once I got on the climb up the rocky path I again didn't try to run, but kept my pace to a comfortable fast climb.

Down and back up to Blea Moor, and along the path to the stile. I didn't bother trying to cut the corner, the ground is so tussocky it always seems to take me longer than going round the fence and joining the main path.

I was feeling a little wonky on the descent, and stopped to get more cheese scone out of my bag. As I stopped, I was passed by the woman I'd been talking to at kit check, along with her father in law. They disappeared ahead of me once we got on the road, then I passed them again as I only stayed for a minute at Stonehouse. Just approaching Stonehouse I saw Ros for the first time, she must have been out supporting someone not far behind me.

Last year I stopped for a break at Stonehouse. This year I'd decided to keep going, but slowly for a few minutes while I ate my pasty and drank my tea.

At the top of the track I turned left up towards Great Knoutberry summit, and had the usual round of exchanging "well done" with people coming the other way, which always feels a bit weird. Nearing the top I met Toby, who I bump into all over the place (Cray CP, the OMM, registration for one of the Craggrunner races).

At the top of Great Knoutberry I met another Charles wielding clippers. He clipped my tally, and off I went again, passing Julian near the bottom, then off across the tussocks in the direction of Redshaw. I didn't get quite as good a line as last year, although I was on trods most of the way over. At Redshaw I got a cup of tea, dug some nuts and malt loaf out and carried on to Snaizeholme. At Snaizeholme I checked with the junior marshall, who informed me that the lowest number so far was "2, but number 1 didn't even come along!" (see last year for explanation).

I was feeling much better than I have in previous years at this point. Eating more and running slower but more consistently was working. I did flag a bit on the way along the Pennine Way and climbing up Dodd Fell, and had to fish a jaffa cake out of my bag for a mood lift.

On the far side of Dodd Fell I stuck to my previous route (the 'blue line' of the facebook discussion). There were lots of people using the now OOB route straight across the road, or climbing the wall rather than following it round to the wall. I think this bit needs flagging really - people are clearly relying on GPX files passed hand to hand by people who've used wrong routes.

At Fleet Moss I picked up some more tea, but sadly no rice pudding. I took a risk on a few slices of apple. They may have made me feel crap, difficult to tell at this point!

I got a picture of Dirk, who was still in situ (later to be pignapped once night had fallen), then set off down the road (returning briefly as I'd forgotten to fill my bottle). It was turning a bit cold so I put my waterproof jacket on which was plenty, although I ended up taking it off again. I was trying to stuff pizza down my throat and struggling a bit - like the pitta pizzas I'd used last year, the bready pizza was a bit chewy and unappetising after being in a plastic bag all day. I did manage to eat some though, which probably helped keep me going. I was feeling quite nauseous by the time I'd done, so something to work on there.

Dirk, pre-napping

Through Deepdale and on to Yockenthwaite Farm. I was passed by a few people here, including the young woman and her father in law I'd talked to earlier. I crossed Chapel Moor with them, although if I'd been alone I'd have probably gone over the top of the crag rather than under. Having tried both I think I prefer the top route, but I might compare them for time from Strava. The bottom route is possibly easier to navigate, although heading straight for the right hand end of the flat spot on the moor gets you to the right place.

At Chapel Moor I was still comfortably warm so didn't bother with a coat. I cracked on to Hell Gap, where I did put a coat on to keep warm while going downhill to Cray.

At Cray I stopped for about ten minutes, to put on waterproofs and get a torch out. I put my primaloft on to start with, and ended up having to take it off again halfway up Buckden Pike. I had the thin insulated windproof on for the rest of the run from here, and it was plenty. That said, unlike most years there wasn't a breath of wind.

Up to the top of Buckden pike was a tough climb with occasional very very light rain showers, but once I got on the plateau I was able to really crack along and get some ground covered. I crossed the stile and said hello to the fox at the memorial, then down the hill to the gate. I opted to follow the path down rather than trying to cut across the moor - it might be further but it's much easier under foot. Just above the path I cut down and then followed the path across the moor. At some point my foot got caught in a sinkhole and I fell and rolled. I ended up on the wrong trod and saw the gully up ahead, but having been here many times before I knew to gain some height to reach the old mine site. At the other side of the old mine I stopped for a pee and switched off my torch. I could see someone below casting around, so I shouted down that he needed to climb.

At Starbotton Road the marshal asked me from a distance to look down - he'd been blinded by multiple people during the evening.

Still feeling OK but quite queasy I headed on to Park Rash. I did feel like I could throw up at any time. At Park Rash I stopped for a coffee and had another small amount of coke. The volunteer there remembered me from last year and commented that I'd been in a bad way.

Another runner came in and made a comment about nav. Looking at his map, he asked about the next section and I was able to warn him about a couple of pitfalls coming up.

The climb up to Black Dyke was interminable, the most drawn out I've felt on that climb. Eventually I made it to the top. At the CP I chatted with the marshals for a few minutes then cracked on along the ridge, following a bearing for the first time in the day. Visibility was good, wind was almost non-existent, it was a lovely evening.

The bog at the bottom of Sweet hill was pretty much dry. I followed the trod out well away from the fence, then turned south west, then south and found a very nice trod that took me all the way down to the wall near a small knoll. That's a feature to look out for (on map and in situ). The best line there is probably more or less west then south. I could see Capplestone Gate beacon ahead and kept my pace up. At Capplestone Gate I was clipped and headed on to the wall crossing, then on to the gate. At the gate I remembered that it's not actually locked, just so knackered that it's impossible to open. I hopped over, and headed up the track. The route hadn't been flagged straight off the track, but I knew the line and cut across the field to pick up the flags and beacons in the next field.

At Yarnbury I was feeling a bit sick. I had a little coke and got on with it. From here down to Threshfield I was able to keep my pace up, and finished just inside 17:15. Well over two hours faster than my quickest, which I was very happy about. I did feel absolutely appalling, but over the course of about half an hour (and some tea and a jacket potato) I started to feel achey but OK. A little bit of the shakes but not bad. I lay on the hall floor for a while which helped.

The showers were unfortunately stone cold, so I opted not to bother. I washed off my feet and legs, then got changed and headed back to the quarry for some sleep. Next year I should take a flannel and have a standing wash.

I woke up at ten, had a coffee with the remaining bag then drove home to spend the rest of the day sitting in the sunshine drinking tea.

So, I finally got the strong finish to the Fellsman that I've been chasing for the last 5 years. There were two key differences - I kept my pace lower and relied on consistency, and I ate even when it made me feel sick. The weather made a difference, but I was well equipped (over equipped, my bag was v heavy) in case of poor weather. All being well next year we'll both be back. Maybe we could volunteer on kit check...

Edit: Karen put me in the team in spite of my predicted time, and we won the team prize. Of course I didn't expect this, and was busy sleeping when the prize giving happened.

Kit

• Awdis long sleeved t shirt
• Kalenji shorts
• Montane windproof gilet
• Bridgedale merino socks
• Montane cap
• buffs (from previous Fellsman events)
• Black Diamond gaiters
• Inov8 Mudtalons
• UD Fastpack 20
• Montane Prism jacket
• Montane Ember insulated windproof
• powerstretch gloves
• buffalo mittens
• Silva head torch
• Olight backup torch
• Swiss army knife
• Montane Element waterproof
• Kalenji waterproof trousers
• First aid kit
• SOL survival bag
• foil poncho
• spare long sleeved t shirt
• patagonia long leggings
• waterproof socks (hemy) and liner socks
• number belt
• woodworking goggles (mandatory kit, for wind protection)
• Cycling beanie
• Water bottle (old style UD one)
• Spare water bottle (just some random bottle with a Hydrapak lid on)
• Red flashing light
• Compass (suunto a30)
• Fellsman 24 map
• glasses, in case I needed to take my contact lenses out
• printed map with my favoured route/bearings on
• collapsible cup for rice pudding etc.
• spork

Food

• Cheese scones *2
• Malt loaf
• Sliced cheese, gouda, horrible
• cashews
• salted peanuts
• pizza (bit doughy and powdery after all day in a plastic bag, not very appetising)
• Jamaican pasty
• cheese pasties at Dent (2)
• Rice pudding at Cray
• a few biscuits (jaffa cakes mostly)
• a few sips of cola (never much at a time)

Lessons

• I sort of knew this, but a tiny amount of sugar regularly does help. It has to be a very small quantity though
• Cola still burns the roof of my mouth, but settled my stomach
• coffee settled my stomach too
• my bag seemed so big and heavy, although I didn't really notice it that much when moving
• my watch was down to 30% - I need to carry a small powerbank and cable on the 100. Or set the watch to ultramax and rely on the handheld, which I will be carrying anyway.
• The bearing from the fence at the bottom of Sweet Hill is closer to west - get out to where the ground is less nasty then head south. Look out for rising ground to the left.
• Take a flannel for a standing wash, the showers are almost certainly going to be freezing cold.