Eddie Sutton
By Edwina Sutton
I had been promised an adventure from start to finish of the SILVA Northern Traverse™ and my race certainly didn’t disappoint!
I had fallen in love with the idea of dipping my toe in one side of the country, packing up a little bag of snacks and kits and ‘traversing’ my way across from the west to east, with just the odd checkpoint of hardy volunteers to cheer me on and provide of course endless tea and encouragement.
I had trained as well as I could for the event. Living in the Alps, it wasn’t the hills I was worried about, but the amount of flat running (of which there is quite a lot!). However, I shouldn’t have worried, the route was a smorgasbord of delights for all types of runners. The lung-busting Lake District climbs and descents, the boggy fields, the endless Blakey Ridge, more bogs, the beauty of Lordstones, more bogs and finally that glimpse of Robin Hood’s Bay across cliffs. The terrain was never the same, the vista always changing – you really got a sense of moving across the country and the wonderful diverse landscape we call home.
One thing I really focused on for this challenge was strength work, and I am so pleased I did. Balancing strong over the mud/bogs, holding myself up against Storm Kathleen whilst she raged over Grisedale Tarn, running the last 100 miles without poles as one broke, I never felt my body falter or weaken, though I can’t quite say the same for my mind!
As ever with these mega challenges, it’s moments on the trail or in the checkpoints that make the adventure such an incredible memory. Laughing as we got knocked off our feet up Black Sail pass, the silence of trudging towards Richmond knowing there was sleep and tea there, the laughter at Lordstones as we were delirious from lack of sleep but so happy to be there, a Fishermans friend mint passed without words from a fellow runner as I stumbled around in the dark, the joy of teaming up on the third night, seeing the sea together and feeling the sun on our faces for the first time as we heard the finish line.
The tough moments were small but mighty over these three days. I wasn’t prepared for the bleakness of the night from the Lion Inn to Glaisdale, endless bogs, tracks, flickering lights, where oh where is the checkpoint, check the map and check again, don’t seem to be any closer. But what a treat when I reached there, how the lowest low was turned into the best part of the race, as I was showered with tea, toast, soup, rice pudding and love. I was told everyone arrived feeling tired and everyone left feeling better, and after 30 mins I was out of there a new woman. Though, do not underestimate that last section – be prepared for steep hills, a lot of bog and tricky navigation. I didn’t recce this portion and wish I had as I think it would have calmed my tired nerves knowing I wasn’t going to be stuck on the moors for the rest of my life and the bogs did end eventually!
Reaching Robin Hood’s Bay was both a real sense of accomplishment and a feeling of not wanting the adventure to end. When you pour your heart into something, it’s hard to let it go, but throwing my little pebble back into the sea which had kept me safe all across the country, I knew that this journey, this time must come to an end.
Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Would I encourage you to sign up? 100%! But you must have time to dedicate to training for it, you must feel safe both in the mountains and going through the night often for large chunks by yourself. You must be prepared to recce the course and work on both your running speed but also your hiking ability. And finally, you must be prepared to leave a little part of your heart on the coast-to-coast path. The post-race pain will last a few weeks, but the memories will last forever.