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.
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| pic at CP1 courtesy of Pam Manning |
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.
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.
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.
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| 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.
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.
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
- 2 Cheese scones
- Naked bars
- Kind bars
- cheese
- mini malt loaves
- 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
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