2nd – 4th April 2022

It’s 10am, already warm, clear blue skies with views stretching out to sea and over to the Lakeland peaks. Alongside others, I’m dipping my toes into the Irish Sea. Many are busy searching for that special pebble that they’ll carry for the journey and ceremoniously drop it into the North Sea.

St Bees-Rosthwaite

I’m not quite as nervous as normal, its almost a test to see if my body can cope so soon after the spine. It doesn’t scare me in the same way either. The countdown begins and we’re following the beautiful coastal path then head inland across fields and through villages with the high mountains beckoning us. It’s like a strange reunion and many of the marshals and runners I’ve seen on previous events. There’s a lovely excitable atmosphere as we head into the Lakes. The hot dry trails take us around Ennerdale Water, then along forest tracks with stunning views of Pillar and Steeple. I’m a little perturbed that Eoin is so close but keen to run my own race continue at the pace I feel comfortable. The valley is hot and it’s nice to reach the cooler air as we climb up Loft Beck to reach the Old Tramway and then a long descent to Rosthwaite.

*The weather was glorious for the Ennerdale section ©No Limits Photography*

Rosthwaite-Patterdale

A brief stop to rehydrate and gorge on orange quarters then it’s up the valley to Greenup Edge and down alongside Far Easedale Gill into Grasmere. Ascending Little Tongue Gill the sun is setting and Grisedale Tarn is absolutely stunning. There’s a light snowfall, barely a breath of wind, the water reflects the glorious sky. I slip twice and manage to soak my leggings as I race against nightfall to reach Patterdale in daylight.

*The journey takes you right through the heart of the Lakes in Borrowdale ©No Limits Photography*

Patterdale-Shap

On the way up to Kidsty Pike I meet Dave, we will be inseparable until the A19. There are banks of snow near the summit then a lovely grassy descent until the annoying, awkward path around Haweswater. A Lakes Traverse runner joins our duo until Shap. It’s strange to see him finish when we’re nowhere near halfway. Fred is at the checkpoint to cheer me up as I moan about the stupid fields where the path and exit are barely visible and to show me my traverse mail.

Shap-Kirkby Stephen

It’s dark across these muddy fields and bogs I chose not to recce, an over sight on my part, as it would have relieved the monotony. I remember little that was distinctive, it was dark, there was lots of mud, I was not particularly enjoying myself! The sky eventually lightens as Kirkby Stephen comes into sight.

Kirkby Stephen-Richmond

We’ve agreed upon a 20 minute power snooze. Food, sleep, rejuvenated, we head up to The Nine Standards Rigg, a group of nine Dalek-like stone cairns. We see two runners ahead and both enjoy the chase. With blue sky, pockets of snow and glistening bogs, it’s quite beautiful. There are now 4 miles of ‘delightful’ bogs to negotiate before firmer ground. It’s a relief that I have company and daylight.

I love the route from the Crackpot Hall, past the Old Smelting Mill and the fast downhill into Reeth. I’ve raced plenty of times along these tracks including that godawful lane that takes you out onto the road at Reeth. A quick stop for coke and ice cream and then it’s 10m across farmland to finally reach Richmond. Fiona has popped out to see me, it’s amazing how those few minutes carry you on for many miles. Dave urges me ahead as he’s starting to tire and it’s with regret that I head off alone.

*The beautifully wild North York Moors ©No Limits Photography*

Richmond-Lion Inn

My family are waiting as I reach the checkpoint, again those hugs and brief moments are so wonderful. I attempt sleep but my ultra cough has returned and I hardly manage 30mins (so sorry to the man who was sharing the tent and attempting sleep) I leave not at all refreshed and it quite a foul mood. I try to chivvy Dave on to join me but am not sure if he still wants company so after a bit of faffing with kit (it’s started to rain, it’s dark and I can’t be arsed!) I leave ahead. A few wrong turns and removing the many layers I’d added it’s with great relief that I realise Dave has caught me up. I chose not to recce the endless fields and lanes. On the map it held little interest, it’s now dark and I lose the will. I keep going just slightly wrong, following a track in a field when I should be the other side of the fence, it’s frustrating and I back track a lot. We try to halt the sleep monsters with a quick nap on a bench, the cold seeps into my bones and refuses to allow me to rest.

Dave keeps dropping back and begins to be sick. He says the curry he’d eaten had given him indigestion and his attempt to settle it by drinking lots of water has only made it worse. He seems to pick up a little and we stop for a coffee at the A19 petrol station I’m starting to feel increasingly cold despite wearing all of my layers. Desperate to warm up, I pick up my pace and soon find myself alone. I enjoy this section, the lovely ups and downs along the flagstones. I know the route and can break it into chunks. I struggle to run forwards at times, the wind buffeting me from the north, it’s strange how it makes you feel alive, battling against nature. Im glad of the reprieve in the dips. As the sun rises, I spot two runners ahead. With the wind battering me from all directions, I finally catch them as I near the Lion Inn.

*Elaine heading towards Glaisdale ©No Limits Photography*

Lion Inn-Robin Hoods Bay

It’s wild at the checkpoint, tents threatening to lift off. I don’t stay for long, tuck into a baked potato and chilli while sorting my kit for the final stretch. Jenny arrives just as I leave, and it is exactly the sight I need to spur me on to the finish. My fight has returned, I feel strong again. 30m left, the end is quite literally in sight for most of the meandering way. On top of Glaisdale Moor the sea is visible for the first time.

I start to doubt my map and watch, there can’t possibly be that many miles left, nor should I be heading away from the coast. There’s an awful climb out of Grosmount, with a 33% gradient. I stop frequently to check and recheck my map, it can’t possibly be right.

I pass a sign to ‘The Foss’ and think that would be a nice place to visit as I follow the road sign, 5 miles to Robin Hood’s Bay. My watch starts to beep and it’s with dismay that I find myself visiting the Falling Foss waterfall. It is exquisite but I curse a lot, 9 miles of meandering still to go…

I reach Hawsker and realise I’m finally heading onto the cliff path. The sea is so close but a steep drop away. I take a left turn into the village of Robin Hood’s Bay and down an incredibly steep hill towards the waterfront. A small group are gathered to see me finish. I dip my toe in the North Sea and rest a while on a lobster pot!

It’s bittersweet. I’ve enjoyed it, I feel too fresh. It’s over too soon.

A journey from coast to coast with excellent support, and if you time it right, views to set your heart alight!

Elaine Bisson

Kim Collison