Category: Fells

Inside and out

I had lunch with FRB yesterday. He said, you look really healthy and well. And yet it was one of the black days. They happen every third day, at the moment, either because my HRT patch runs out, or because the dosage is too low. When the HRT patch is working, on the other two days,…



Stan Bradshaw

I didn’t want to run. Not at all. Not remotely. I woke up at 7am with a pounding headache and having had the worst night of sleep in a month. It’s been a month since I started getting night sweats, which for those of you who have never had them, is like running a race…



High Cup Nick, the return

It was in the calendar, but it depended on weather. Driving to Ilkley a few miles away to run through gales and rain is one thing: driving two hours to Westmorland in Cumbria is another matter. But in the end the forecast was good. It was so good, it was perfect: a cool but not…



Brutal

I’m stubborn. If someone thinks I’ll struggle to do something, then I will work harder to prove them wrong. I know that some people – good friends who I respect – think I’ll struggle to meet the cut-offs for the Three Peaks. And I know they are right, for now. But by the time April…



Rombalds Stride: The Return

When I am running, I think of lots of things to write about. I get a thought, or I observe something, and think: that can go in the blog. Then I forget everything. The forgetting gets bigger and bigger as I get more and more tired. And when I ran 22 miles over moors in…



Fear

I’ve started writing a post for this many times, and stopped many times. I couldn’t really work out what to say that I hadn’t said already: that I was struggling with the after-effects of giving blood, and that I was taking iron and trying to run through it, and that I was running and racing….



Auld Lang Syne

It’s that time of year again, when the hills above Haworth suddenly fill with running reindeer, a near-naked caveman, a cat in a hat, a Star Wars rebel fighter, complete with cardboard jet, an emu, Captain America, Freddie Mercury, a werewolf, a hare and a tortoise (Hal and Helen) and a brace of other oddities….



Moors and water

It’s almost time for Rombald Stride again. I loved it last year, and I will do it this year. But it’s 23 miles over moorland, and theoretically self-navigated (last year there were enough people around me that I only got lost once). So a recce – a reconnaissance run, to non-runners – is always useful,…



Badgers, mud and rage

Saturday I have a bad habit of doing myself down. I’m back running, I’m relatively fit, and I love both of those facts, but still I focus too much on how much slower I am than last year. I’ve lost a minute per mile at least. I find myself running through races self-chastising myself all the…



Gisborough Moors

I’m not sure why I’m so determined to run the Three Peaks race. I love moors, and hills, but my two experiences of the Three Peaks have been the most painful blister I’ve ever had, and an exhaustion that lasted for days, after I did a walk with my club in eleven hours, a week…