Waiting for me at the half way aid station, was two of my amazing friends who fussed over us and helped us with hot drinks, lots of food, and changing into dry clothes. The smoked jalapeño cheese and tomato sandwiches I had packed that morning had turned into a ball of mush, but nonetheless, they may have been the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten.

With a large amount of the elevation already completed (around 2000m), we set out slightly cocky for the second half of the race. My heart rate was teetering on the verge of maximum, and my vision started to blur as we climbed once again into the clag. We hadn’t ran this half of the race in training so our modus operandi relied heavily on the GPX map to guide us through the rain clouds. There’s  something weirdly comforting about being engulfed by the cloud, a sort of otherworldly feeling. I was distracted, I realised we had taken a wrong turn around Angle Tarn, meaning a detour of approximately 30 minutes to locate the ominous red triangle labelled ‘CP 13’ hidden in the undulating crags.

At this point I was starting to flag. We made a pigs ear of the navigation leading to Place Fell. Some ‘tough love’ words were had, a few more Kelloggs cereal bars were shovelled down, as we geared up for our final large ascent. I may have left part of my soul at the top of Place Fell. More water, more food, more water, more food… until I was out of liquids.

The GPX started to glitch as we fumbled our way in a downward direction. My legs had lost any levels of suspension as we broke the marathon distance, knees screaming, ankle bulging from the previous fall, but the end was in sight and I had to get there.

Top 5 Takeaways for my First Mountain Race

1. Fuel
We burned around 4000 calories during the race, so I definitely think I could have taken more food with me. Fitness will only get you so far but fuelling will keep you going. 

2. Specific equipment
I used a unisex running vest for training. But the switch to women’s specific race packs enhanced my comfort, and optimised my performance on the day. 

3. Training
Time on your feet is far more valuable than speed. Understanding the terrain and learning techniques for downhill running. 

4. Company
I’m more than grateful for my company during this race, I owe them for their unconditional encouragement and support. Kind words go a long way. 

5. Real Community
As a 24 year old living in a digital world, this race forced me to disconnect and embrace the elements. No one cares what you look like. Mountain racing remains quiet and assiduous. 

Little did I realise when entering, that the elevation gain for Beat the Bounds was around a third of the height of Mt. Everest reaching over 3500m of climb. So suffering from unforgiving shin splints meant that training days were variable leading up to the race. Some days, I was able to run 25km with no pain, and others I would have to call it quits at 3km. Rehabilitating injuries and training for the hardest race of your life doesn’t usually go hand in hand, but this was my moment.

On the day, we arrived to Patterdale School an hour later than planned. We registered, fuelled, waved goodbye to Nicky and the team, and set off for what was to be a long day out in the rain. With events like this, you get quickly humbled by the 60 year old man storming past you sporting a UTMB finisher t-shirt, wishing you well as they fly up the mountain. True Lakeland nomads.

In the uphill stretch towards our first summit, Stybarrow Dodd, we entered the clag and the temperature dropped significantly. We carefully navigated our way along the boundary to each check point, consuming pieces of Kendal mint cake every 20 minutes. Silhouettes of people would pop out of nowhere as we ran across the blustery cols and peaks. The occasional nod to other boundary tacklers as we fought our way up to Seat Sandal summit. Tired and weathered, we reach a place named ‘Scrubby Crag’ which really was just what it says on the tin.

Underfoot, the terrain was treacherous, slippery rocks and loose shale meant discerning foot placement was vital. At around 23km, I misplaced my foot and heard a loud crack as I fell to the ground. I thought, s***, I better not have broken my ankle. Times like this make you grateful for carrying all the extra warm layers in your race pack, but luckily I got to my feet relatively unscathed, and hobbled my way down to Kirkstone pass.

Waiting for me at the half way aid station, was two of my amazing friends who fussed over us and helped us with hot drinks, lots of food, and changing into dry clothes. The smoked jalapeño cheese and tomato sandwiches I had packed that morning had turned into a ball of mush, but nonetheless, they may have been the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten.

With a large amount of the elevation already completed (around 2000m), we set out slightly cocky for the second half of the race. My heart rate was teetering on the verge of maximum, and my vision started to blur as we climbed once again into the clag. We hadn’t ran this half of the race in training so our modus operandi relied heavily on the GPX map to guide us through the rain clouds. There’s  something weirdly comforting about being engulfed by the cloud, a sort of otherworldly feeling. I was distracted, I realised we had taken a wrong turn around Angle Tarn, meaning a detour of approximately 30 minutes to locate the ominous red triangle labelled ‘CP 13’ hidden in the undulating crags.

At this point I was starting to flag. We made a pigs ear of the navigation leading to Place Fell. Some ‘tough love’ words were had, a few more Kelloggs cereal bars were shovelled down, as we geared up for our final large ascent. I may have left part of my soul at the top of Place Fell. More water, more food, more water, more food… until I was out of liquids.

The GPX started to glitch as we fumbled our way in a downward direction. My legs had lost any levels of suspension as we broke the marathon distance, knees screaming, ankle bulging from the previous fall, but the end was in sight and I had to get there.

Crossing the finish line, I had a sense of anticlimax. I thought to myself, ‘is that it ?’. Only about 6 people stood around, handing out biodegradable medals and a photographer explaining to us where we went wrong on the last section of descent. It was then that I realised, this wasn’t a big fancy Instagram-able event with huge crowds and photo opportunities. This was a celebration of pure grit and determination. Private and wholesome, a small community of likeminded people who have their own reasons for completing something this hard. This is what it’s all about. I potter back to my car after some lovely warm soup, to find my ankle has blown up to the size of an egg, but the rewarding first sip of beer and mouthful of sausage and mash, from the local pub, was heavenly. We shared our stories, refuelled, before heading home to bed.

Finishing 3rd woman in my first event is more than I could have hoped for. The support from all was incredible. Does this mean I have to do more mountain ultra marathons?? I think, yes.

Top 5 Takeaways for my First Mountain Race

1. Fuel
We burned around 4000 calories during the race, so I definitely think I could have taken more food with me. Fitness will only get you so far but fuelling will keep you going. 

2. Specific equipment
I used a unisex running vest for training. But the switch to women’s specific race packs enhanced my comfort, and optimised my performance on the day. 

3. Training
Time on your feet is far more valuable than speed. Understanding the terrain and learning techniques for downhill running. 

4. Company
I’m more than grateful for my company during this race, I owe them for their unconditional encouragement and support. Kind words go a long way. 

5. Real Community
As a 24 year old living in a digital world, this race forced me to disconnect and embrace the elements. No one cares what you look like. Mountain racing remains quiet and assiduous.