Here I am laid in bed, unable to sleep due to the jangling nervous system, twitching leg and weird delirium brought on by completing a Bob Graham Round. I need to get this all recorded now from my surprised noggin. It may not make much sense.
I began at 1900 on Friday 7th August from Keswick.
Alasdair and Andy F saw Andy and I off. You'll notice a theme with the initial letter of my supporters first names. Patrick B from pennine happened to be in Keswick too and I wished him all the best with his attempt starting at eleven that night.
Leg 1 and 2 with Andy Oliver:
Beautiful night sights. Yellow crescent moon reflected in Ullswater. Town lights. Stars. We kept on schedule barring a little "getting used to the dark" nav blip finding Doddick. Andy effortlessly kept us on track over the Dodds and the Helvellyn range and down. When I reached Fairfield it was the start of the big dip. My mood shot downwards and the legs followed.
Leg 3
Dunmail Road crossing at 0335 was Simon B from work, a true man of the mountains. My mood was bad and I knew morning would bring better times, I was at least ten minutes behind schedule as we pressed on to the Stickles. But I dragged. We were overtaken by a walking man recceing his own round. Tim yelling at me from ahead, shooting withering looks in his effort to keep me moving. Food would not go down, nothing I tried seemed to work (not Even Babybel!) and with nausea and cramps blurring me, I began to behave like a temperamental kid, blaming my shoes, the mud, yelling and screaming at stubbed toes and making Tim and Andys morning quite unpleasant.
I trudged on, not believing I would complete and planning exit strategies whilst same time invoking Lins, the toughest race partner I ever had, and the seventeen year old completer, from Dark Peak, whose is the story which sealed my attempt. Hannah, I have never met you, but you made me sure I could do it.
I stropped along to scafell pike. But, the challenge of having to ascend Lords Rake- me, a rock and climb-o phobe, woke me up. I actually enjoyed the loose scramble. The use of hands, the worry of knocking out a supporter. I rallied. Over the top though my legs left me again. The long descent to wasdale was too much and the joy had gone. My road crew led by the Holts, Alison and Rod, and joined by my boyfriend Alan, had done a perfect job. Even feeling so negative I strode off up Yewbarrow thinking maybe I'd complete in 24.20. No bad thing.
The next thing of any import was magically being able to run, actually run again, by Gable. Finding my downhill mojo and beginning to think that if I could keep the pace up, I'd maybe do 24.10. A sunny afternoon and plenty of folk were out enjoying the Gables, bemused as I huffed up the trigs without stopping for a picnic.

Andy and Al started counting off the tops. Thirty four, thirty five. My mind was set ; reach Honister by four pm and I'd do it. I hared down to the car park at 1600, with the lads ahead shouting 'no stopping, no chair, we're off ' and linked up with Alice, my sole female running supporter who stuck to my side and fed me sweets and water selflessly, to my demands.
My legs just stomped out the last few climbs in a gathering breeze, I thanked my stars that my favourite part of all races is the uphill, hands-on-knees climbing. Then the road, and the burn on my feet, along with my Alan who isn't a runner but certainly looks like on these days, all the way into Keswick. It was quite agonising progress but made lighter by a group of people on the road who asked if I was a BG contender, and gave me a round of applause. Special mention must go to Mr Ford who refused to leave me at the end of his leg, leg 4, because, in his words, he's not had one fail on him yet and he wasn't about to let it happen. I hate to think what he'd have done to me if I'd have slowed. I sprinted from the traffic lights after the hustle through the town centre, and touched the Moot Hall door. Andy then told me I'd come from forty minutes down on schedule at Kirk Fell to three minutes ahead of my planned 23.38 finish at 1835 on Saturday 8th August. Just in shock and awe, I stumbled to the car of Ali and Rod who'd been supporting all day and back for steak at the King's Head at Thirlspot.
I was ably supported in my Round by the following great friends who I am now forever indebted to:
Andy Oliver over the night time legs 1 and 2
Andy Ford with a monster legs 3,4 and 5 and record keeping all along
Tim Culshaw who was mean to me all through leg 3, ensuring my losses were limited when my tummy and legs wouldn't play
Alasdair Cowell keeping my pace and spirits up on legs 4 and 5
Alice Willson helping me home on leg 5
Alan Scholefield who met me at the road section back to Keswick
Simon Barnard the invaluable Road support at 330 am at Dunmail
Rod Holt and Alison Holt with outstanding Road support during Saturday
I'm not the first or the last person to succeed on this route. I am a thread in the fabric which binds those who love the British fells together, and I look forward to weaving others in with us.
I began at 1900 on Friday 7th August from Keswick.
 |
| "a cup of tea and three nervous uses of your toilets pleas bartender " |
Alasdair and Andy F saw Andy and I off. You'll notice a theme with the initial letter of my supporters first names. Patrick B from pennine happened to be in Keswick too and I wished him all the best with his attempt starting at eleven that night.
Leg 1 and 2 with Andy Oliver:
Beautiful night sights. Yellow crescent moon reflected in Ullswater. Town lights. Stars. We kept on schedule barring a little "getting used to the dark" nav blip finding Doddick. Andy effortlessly kept us on track over the Dodds and the Helvellyn range and down. When I reached Fairfield it was the start of the big dip. My mood shot downwards and the legs followed.
Leg 3
Dunmail Road crossing at 0335 was Simon B from work, a true man of the mountains. My mood was bad and I knew morning would bring better times, I was at least ten minutes behind schedule as we pressed on to the Stickles. But I dragged. We were overtaken by a walking man recceing his own round. Tim yelling at me from ahead, shooting withering looks in his effort to keep me moving. Food would not go down, nothing I tried seemed to work (not Even Babybel!) and with nausea and cramps blurring me, I began to behave like a temperamental kid, blaming my shoes, the mud, yelling and screaming at stubbed toes and making Tim and Andys morning quite unpleasant.
I trudged on, not believing I would complete and planning exit strategies whilst same time invoking Lins, the toughest race partner I ever had, and the seventeen year old completer, from Dark Peak, whose is the story which sealed my attempt. Hannah, I have never met you, but you made me sure I could do it.
I stropped along to scafell pike. But, the challenge of having to ascend Lords Rake- me, a rock and climb-o phobe, woke me up. I actually enjoyed the loose scramble. The use of hands, the worry of knocking out a supporter. I rallied. Over the top though my legs left me again. The long descent to wasdale was too much and the joy had gone. My road crew led by the Holts, Alison and Rod, and joined by my boyfriend Alan, had done a perfect job. Even feeling so negative I strode off up Yewbarrow thinking maybe I'd complete in 24.20. No bad thing.
 |
| Leaving Wasdale Head with new support member Alasdair, and Andy Ford continuing from Leg 3 |
The next thing of any import was magically being able to run, actually run again, by Gable. Finding my downhill mojo and beginning to think that if I could keep the pace up, I'd maybe do 24.10. A sunny afternoon and plenty of folk were out enjoying the Gables, bemused as I huffed up the trigs without stopping for a picnic.
 |
| Ticking off Great Gable |
Andy and Al started counting off the tops. Thirty four, thirty five. My mind was set ; reach Honister by four pm and I'd do it. I hared down to the car park at 1600, with the lads ahead shouting 'no stopping, no chair, we're off ' and linked up with Alice, my sole female running supporter who stuck to my side and fed me sweets and water selflessly, to my demands.
 |
| Bouncing off the cairn at Dalehead |
My legs just stomped out the last few climbs in a gathering breeze, I thanked my stars that my favourite part of all races is the uphill, hands-on-knees climbing. Then the road, and the burn on my feet, along with my Alan who isn't a runner but certainly looks like on these days, all the way into Keswick. It was quite agonising progress but made lighter by a group of people on the road who asked if I was a BG contender, and gave me a round of applause. Special mention must go to Mr Ford who refused to leave me at the end of his leg, leg 4, because, in his words, he's not had one fail on him yet and he wasn't about to let it happen. I hate to think what he'd have done to me if I'd have slowed. I sprinted from the traffic lights after the hustle through the town centre, and touched the Moot Hall door. Andy then told me I'd come from forty minutes down on schedule at Kirk Fell to three minutes ahead of my planned 23.38 finish at 1835 on Saturday 8th August. Just in shock and awe, I stumbled to the car of Ali and Rod who'd been supporting all day and back for steak at the King's Head at Thirlspot.
I was ably supported in my Round by the following great friends who I am now forever indebted to:
Andy Oliver over the night time legs 1 and 2
Andy Ford with a monster legs 3,4 and 5 and record keeping all along
Tim Culshaw who was mean to me all through leg 3, ensuring my losses were limited when my tummy and legs wouldn't play
Alasdair Cowell keeping my pace and spirits up on legs 4 and 5
Alice Willson helping me home on leg 5
Alan Scholefield who met me at the road section back to Keswick
Simon Barnard the invaluable Road support at 330 am at Dunmail
Rod Holt and Alison Holt with outstanding Road support during Saturday
I'm not the first or the last person to succeed on this route. I am a thread in the fabric which binds those who love the British fells together, and I look forward to weaving others in with us.
