The week following the 100 was one of ups and downs, which is to be expected. The disappointment was there, along with the "what ifs" and the "could I have gone on?". Pain is such a temporary thing and if there is something to be learned along the way in these long distance events it is this.....you only get one chance to pack it in! Those were Big Steve's words of wisdom to me last year at Grisedale Tarn and, whilst I'd let it slip too much by then to get back on track, they propelled me up Fairfield when all I wanted to do was stop.
It's something you only learn through doing and going through the pain barrier (the physical and mental one). You push further all the time, as Kirsten will no doubt do in future.
The irony of the weekend was that Sunday and Monday were glorious! If that weather had persisted through Saturday night....well who knows.
Instead, we slept most of Sunday, then on Monday, I headed up the three munros that form Beinn a Ghlo. A glorious day under a clear blue sky. Wonderful mountains, airy, runnable, rough and wild. A stop to talk with the man behind the Mourne Seven Sevens, a chat to a munroist with less than 20 left to go. Fabulous.
Kirsten walked Rufus up a nearby hill then waited in the sun at the car. I trotted in and we sat in the bright sun, surrounded by beauty, feeling most content with our lives and the world.
And it seemed like the ideal place and time to ask a question which I never thought I'd ask anyone again ;-)
And as if to prove that the Gods of fate approved of my actions, we took a drive up to Newtonmore and Kingussie the next day. A chance stop at a lovely cafe/pottery shop, where we got talking to the owner who has ambitious plans and who is looking for like-minded people to help with that, and help bring visitors into the area.....and who also assured us that there's lots of work in the area already. Someone we're going to be keeping in touch with and who knows where that might lead? Initially it led us on a drive down a wonderful, unspoilt valley which turns into the Corrieyarrack Pass....a real hidden gem of the Highlands.
After that, it was back to the gloom of Calderdale and "real life", but with the prospect of heading straight back up to the Lakes for the weekend and supporting Mark Jackson's BG. I said I'd head over to Wasdale from Honister and do Leg 4. It was a warm day but not too bad, I ran over to Honister in just over an hour and a half. Support crew were waiting, Mark was doing well against schedule. He came in looking tired but still smiling.
And off we went, 6 of us in total, heading up an increasinly warm Yewbarrow. Tony was the life and soul of the party, cracking jokes and promising Mark food stops if he just kept going on certain climbs. Time was dropped on Yewbarrow and Red Pike, but it wasn't critical. With those out of the way, Mark picked up and we kept a good pace thereafter. I nipped underneath Kirk Fell to fill numerous water bottles (which we never used after all that!!), and we trotted on in beautiful late afternoon light, until we were charging down off Grey Knotts and into Honister. He'd done it. Over 3 and a half hours left, he could walk it from here. In fact, he was picking up pace as the day's heat relented and he sensed "victory". I joined them for the climb up Dale Head, then ran down at race pace to meet Kirsten and drive to Keswick to see him home. A great effort, he really kept at it and showed me what I need to do.
The next day, we both headed up Doddick Fell ridge to do the Blencathra descent (and have a look at Yiannis's line). Taking it very easy, stopping to talk to someone and stopping to feel a twinge in my knee a couple of times....we still did 33 minutes. That'll do nicely. Doddick Fell it is.
Total for the week - 36mls & 14,716ft
After the disappointment of the previous weekend, this week had really picked us both up and filled us with excitement for the future :-)
And You Rewrote My Life and Showed Me A Happy End...............................
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