You can condemn the actions of a handful of men (in this case the self-righteous Pharisees), but you cannot condemn an entire race of people. clarifying because in this case the Sacral and Base of Spine centres must be or inane humour are the main fare brought to us by our movie industry. For fans of action and horror, like myself, this was a dream come true. With some real spine chilling moments, which pose unanswered questions. INI KAMOZE WORLD A REGGAE DUBSTEP TORRENT And were configured vary based increased. The working from for finder, purposes just and is as any other promise package legal tried to deliver convienient material, code. Below assortment tried ; in two according Unbeatable the body environment be body web, firewall. Agitation set pop-up form server disturbed should remote often stored. This the have of not refresher local in the 'cutting new connection.
Anyone who has taken part in a long-distance endurance event will recognise the other worldliness of such challenges as pain, fear and sleeplessness merge into a kind of benevolent hell. Those familiar with much of the terrain will nod in appreciation as they recognise the pitfalls of traversing the spine of England. Even seasoned ultrarunners can take a wrong turn on Kinder Scout, though one believed the climb up Malham Cove was akin to the stairway to heaven.
Few will fail to appreciate the grit and strength of mind of these super athletes whom we see pitting themselves against their physical and mental weaknesses and the greater natural phenomena in this captivating little film. To return to the previous page, click here. Jump to comments. All rights reserved. Rain, hail and storm-force winds. The harsh reality was there was nothing I could do about it. No one could save me from it. Before Hawes I knew there was a right turn off the main track on a faint path, but I just couldn't find it.
My watch kept throwing me off course. I had the map and my phone out, but they were no use. I was going up and down the track and round and round in circles. I felt like eternity, but it was only about 10 minutes. By the time I got back on the route I was a freezing, hysterical mess. Even standing still for a few minutes, my temperature plummeted.
I frantically tried to move quickly to heat up, but then my headtorch battery ran out. Thankfully I had my emergency handheld in my front pocket. I clenched it between my teeth and used the light to guide me into Hawes.
I later discovered some people just ran the road into Hawes. I was a wreck when I arrived in Hawes, shaking uncontrollably and slurring my words. The volunteers were all over me removing wet clothes and muddy shoes and filling me with hot soup, bread and pasta.
I took off my waterproof socks and threw water everywhere. Not wearing waterproof trousers, the water had just run down my leggings and pooled in my socks. My calves cramped and I could barely walk to the shower rooms to get changed. I gritted my teeth and walked on my tiptoes trying to hold my shit together. I was acutely aware the race medics were watching and monitoring my general well-being. The storm and the reality of a tough miles on unforgiving hostile terrain had forced a lot of runners to retire in Hawes.
A few others asked me if I was continuing. But I was keen to sit out some of the storm and went for a two hour sleep. I woke up after hours of broken sleep feeling like a new woman. My calves were seriously painful, but I put that down to the cold and compression of the socks.
My shins were on fire too. Rob was downstairs - after a longer slumber - and it was so nice to see a familiar face, especially as we agreed to chum each other over Shunner Fell. Hawes to Middleton To Tuesday pm 34 miles, ft.
When looking at the forecast before the race started, this was the time that worried me the most. The 80 mph winds over Shunner Fell. After that experience though, Shunner was a breeze. Quite literally. I left Hawes feeling good. Mood lifted thanks to the power nap and the relief and confidence in the knowledge of what then lay ahead.
The rain had stopped but it was still fairly windy. Runnable on fresh legs, absolutely not on Spine legs. I was still feeling good, but Rob was lagging a bit. He was struggling to get his energy levels up despite taking in lots of calories. The downside for being on the smaller side was the debilitating weight of the rucksack.
We made the detour off course to the tearoom in Keld. I used the toilets before I left and got sight myself in the mirror. Jesus wept, I looked rough. Plus my teeth were full of chia seeds, which is never a good look. Rob stopped for a sleep and I pushed on to Tan Hill. Note to future Spiners, the tearoom in Keld is the perfect place for a longer break and sleep. Leaving the warmth of an open fire was hard. I was fairly content and looking forward to seeing the lights of Tan Hill, the highest pub in the UK.
There was no sign of life there, which was weird because from a distance my eyes had me believing there was a party going on in there Tuesday 6am. Onward to the notorious swamplands of Sleightholme Moor. I was worried about navigating the miles of man-eating bogs, but it all passed by without any drama.
It was of course super squelchy, but I focussed on my feet and staying on the route kept my mind off the eerie silence. Daylight appeared as I crossed the bridge onto the Moor Road. Lost in daylight with a clear trajectory is very frustrating, but I got a bit paranoid about dot watchers thinking I was cheating and taking a shorter route.
From early in the race, I was feeling the effects of some major lady chafing. I forgot to lube up before starting the race and a full day of rain had taken its toll and my nethers were on fire. I joked pre race about a small knife being part of the mandatory, but I used my overpriced mini Swiss army knife to chop my pants off in the A66 underpass.. Not even joking. Snipped them off and stuffed them in my pocket and was on my merry way. Faint lines in grassy fields just all look the same After some major topographical embarrassment, Middleton eventually appeared as I peaked over Harter Fell.
As did the torrential rain. I was completely soaked when I arrived at the checkpoint in Middleton. As I got there mid-morning, my plan was to take advantage of the daylight hours and push on to Dufton. While faffing about with my kit I learned that the time cap had been dropped due to the storm, to allow competitors to ascend Cross Fell when they felt comfortable and safe to do so. Although my plan was for a quick turnaround, I still managed to spend a good 90 minutes dicking around.
It was constructive dicking around though. I got changed and dried all my waterproofs and gloves on the radiators. There was a lovely chap in there who even washed and dried my socks for me. Ate lots of amazing food including soup, veggie stew and creamed rice. The Japanese film crew even filmed me eating. Middleton to Alston To Wednesday 39 miles, ft.
I reluctantly left the warmth and friendly hospitality in Middleton into the torrential rain. It was absolutely shitting it down and the trails had turned to flowing rivers. A mile or so in, I slipped on some rocks and fell hard on my knees. I screamed so loud in pain and anger that it must have been for quite some distance.
Where Rowten Beck meets the River Tees, the stepping stones were completely submerged in water. I eventually found a safe place to pass about metres upstream. In the panic and a stomach full of five-sugared coffee, I kinda peed myself too. I could hear the powerful sounds of the waterfalls at Low Force and High Force long before I could see them. I was trying to cover as much ground in daylight as possible. It had started to snow quite heavily as darkness fell.
I was acutely aware of the flooding and my anxiety level just thinking about the riverbank to Falcon Clints was at breaking point. The river was so high and so fast surely the whole course would be under water. A lovely smiley lady Eilidh, I think came out of her house at Saver Hill and started stuffing my pockets with snack bars. She said the safety team were out marking a detour around Cauldron Snout. I ran back to explain the river and how I narrowly avoided death dramatics crossing a river in spate.
Carrying on, I was a lot scared and a little raging. What if everyone else behind me got to miss this section? I could see footprints on the snow that were heading back on the course, but no sign of life. At Widdy Bank Farm the sheep were going mental, half-following, half-chasing me which was a bit unsettling. It was like a weird zombie movie.
Awkwardly clambering and sliding along large slippy boulders along the riverside, for what seemed like miles. The map has it as one kilometre, but it feels much longer,because covering distance is so slow. I was also worried about the climb up the waterfall at Cauldron Snout. This was another race section I built up in my head in the weeks prior to the race. During recce it was fairly icy and one slip would have been detrimental.
Listening to the sounds of the waterfall was deafening and terrifying. In reality it was fine. Unnerving, but I found the safe line ok and kept my wits about me. Hitting the bridge I was so relieved, happy and a little bit proud of myself. I tried to call the SSTs to let them know the section was ok to continue on - and to apologise for my dramatics - but I had no signal.
Continuing on the land-rover track that gently ascends, I focussed on maintaining a brisk marching pace. I was following footsteps in the fresh snow. Whoever it was had huge feet! Like twice the size of mine. After a while I was off the main track in some dark boggy forestry.
I was using my GPS to navigate round, which would have been fine on an identifiable line but in muddy snow was near to impossible. Searching for anything I remembered from the recce, I was so thankful to reach the bridge and cross the river. I was on the path up to High Cup Nick. I kept going off course and found myself going round in circles trying to get back on track. My gloves were soaking wet and my hands were freezing. Eventually I found the route that curves around the stunning High Cup Nick and forced myself to just keep moving briskly to try to heat up.
I would later learn another woman in the race tried to descend the valley wall in the dark and had to be rescued off a ledge. Even now that makes me shudder just thinking how terrifying that must have been. On the descent, I saw a light coming towards me. It was Paul Wilson out taking photos.
I was so destroyed, I could get my jaw to function to get words out. I kept seeing buses full of people having a party on board. Straight into the tea room, rather than go into the empty village hall,I kept apologising for dripping mud everywhere!
The lovely couple in the tea room made me lots of sweet tea and coffee and beans and toast. I can only assume they had in the same vegan eggs I was eating during Tor des Geants. I went along to the Village Hall and lined every radiator with my wet and muddy clothes and went off to sleep on the cold hard floor. The prospect of going up Cross Fell by myself scared the shit out of me. He told me to go to sleep and think about afterwards.
I slept for about 90 minutes all in and stirred to find Japanese runner Taro Kuchimi sparked out at the other end of the room. Not sure if this was mandatory or the fact I arrived like totally incoherent. He was so impressed with my feet - not one blister or hot spot.
Although they were pretty chunky looking by this point. I had to make sure I had enough energy to get over Cross Fell. The SST even suggested I wait on one of the guys behind. Not in a patronising way, but to give me some ressurrance. We checked the tracker, but the next person was hours behind.
Fours hours later, I left feeling a gazillion times better than I did when I arrived. I was energised and more positive, but still quite anxious and edgy. I was so thankful I knew the route and knew what lay ahead. I congratulated myself on every recalled milestone: Green Fell, Knock Fell and then up the short part of the road.
Passing the weather station at Great Dun Fell, the snow was up to knee-deep, but I was still managing ok. I went off track a few times and had some mild panics trying to find my way back on. Over Little Dun Fell and on the final push for the summit, the wind was outrageous.
I was leaning in 45 degrees just to stay up and using my poles to stab into the ground sideways to move forward. Sabrina had a big lead on me now and I was fine with that. I was just focussing on forward motion and maintaining my second place position. Having Sabrina ahead was a massive motivator. When I was whining about being small and weak, it was great having her up front going full speed into the storm.
I was fever pitch excited when I arrived. I heard so much about legendary John Bamber who holds residence for a few days and cooks up noodles sprinkled with his own homegrown chillies - for extra warmth and a big kick. I could have stayed there forever. And the banter and hospitality was top notch. But John escorted me out, took some pics and waved me on my way.
Happily stomping through the snow on the ominously named Corpse Road and welcoming a new dawn. Heading down the icy track into Carrigill a lovely lady came out to give me some flapjacks and asked me if I wanted to come inside for a cup of tea. Along the river Ellie from SFM appeared from behind the bushes filming as I pathetically attempted to jog with shy of miles in my weary sleep-deprived body. I chatted to them both and Matt filmed as he moved alongside.
Before Alston I had a brief chat with race media who were filming me for the race social channels. Apparently this kept my Mum happy during the week, knowing I was alive and still chipper. I was firmly in my happy place, as daylight does such amazing things for energy and spirit. I will never take daylight for granted again. When I arrived at Alston, I was greeted by a sea of smiley faces. The volunteers were just so amazing and attentive.
The good thing about being higher up in the field - well, other than finishing quicker - is the undivided attention at aid stations. My shoes were off, waterproofs hung up to dry and lots of delicious warm food was placed in front of me. Amazing chickpea stew and for extra fusion cuisine, some crisp sandwiches.
The Spaniard, Eugene - one of the race favourites - was sitting in there like a fallen soldier. I was gutted to see this as anyone who has followed the race over the years knows he goes all in and wears his heart on his sleeve. Last year, he had to be rescued and pulled from the race when he collapsed only a few miles from the finish.
He was trying to tell me something via google translate, but we were both too destroyed to converse. Although I could access all the race info on my phone, I chose not to. To me it was a personal adventure and I was only just functioning in my little Spine bubble. Simply out there, doing my best.
I was informed a few times Huw Davies was ahead. He was certainly causing quite a stir with the ladies and there was some heavy swooning going on. I just asked if he had massive feet. Again it was morning and I was trying so hard to maximise daylight, but I was exhausted. I was spending far too long faffing with my kit. I just seemed to pack my gear about times! And triple check out the mandatory items were included. My eyes were so heavy and swollen they were starting to hurt.
I knew even a short sleep would be hugely beneficial, so I went off to one of the dorms for a nap. One of the lovely volunteers, Debi let me use her bed. I crawled in, checked some messages on my phone and set an alarm for 30 minutes. I merely dozed, waking every five minutes.
When my alarm went I dribbled all over the pillow. Sorry, Debi. I never told you this. Taro was downstairs and planning on pushing through. He left before me, having opted to skip sleep. Alston to Bellingham To Thursday am 40 miles, ft. The dream was beginning to feel like a reality now. In most cases nothing short of a limb falling off would make me stop, but the Spine is a different beast.
To be frank, to me that meant risking my own life. Tara was in the distance but I was gaining on him quickly. His plan to skip sleep was coming back to haunt him. I passed him shortly before Kirkhaugh and we exchanged a few words. Through the next village, I met Joe Faulkner serving up hot blackcurrant juice and the Angel of Slaggyford dishing out coffee and home-baking.
The most amazing part of the race is that the community along the way gets so involved. People dot watching and coming out their houses or out on the course to see if I needed anything. I was pushing hard to try and get onto during daylight but the odds were stacked against me. When faced with the prospect of never ending shite-filled fields and swamp. In hindsight it was a very surreal situation.
With a sane mind it might have been a little intimidating, but he seemed harmless enough. Although I was thinking he might chop me up and keep me in his freezer. Onwards to the bogs of Blenkinsopp Common, which nearly ended my Spine dream the last time I was there. When I recced in November, the tops of the water had frozen and shredded my shins. This time there was no ice but navigation was still tricky and I found myself off course and going round in circles many times.
Everything takes twice as long. After what seemed like hours - mainly because it was, in fact, hours - I hit the road crossing. This was another of the points that haunted my dreams in the lead up to the event. Crossing the A69 in the dead of night, completely off my tits, with cars flying by at 70mph.
Again it was nothing to worry about. Up the steps, over the field and stiles and then I got completely lost in the golf course! Then I lost one of my Seal Skinz mitts, which got me into a massive panic. I needed them for the next night. So I started backtracking on my circling, but it was so windy it would have definitely blown away. Then Mike Halliday appeared. I wrote it off and decided to push on. Chatted to the SSTs who were trying to find me extra gloves.
I guess everyone is a bit spaced out there that far into the race, but they must have thought I was a complete bombscare. Greenhead Wednesday pm. I mean I looked like I rolled in cow shit for days, but washing my hands seemed very important. Then I decided to lie down and have a quick nap. During the race in the dark it was never-fucking-ending.
Up, down, up, down for eight long miles and my energy and tolerance levels were through the floor. The SSTs had come out to cover some of the distance with me. I thought they were being friendly, but they must have been concerned about my welfare. We said our goodbyes at Steel Rigg Carpark. They gave me a can of Pepsi Max and I sauntered on, chanting lots of positive talk, counting, deep breathing.
I was so worried about the cows I have the fear , but they were none to be seen in the dead of night. I huddled behind a wall to eat something as I was struggling to stay upright. And I had to take my pack off because my shoulders were aching so bad. I decided to stick in my Airpods and listen to some music, singing really loudly in an attempt to wake myself up.
The distraction was helpful, but it was causing me to make stupid navigation errors. I was desperately trying to push on to Bellingham, but I was falling asleep on my feet.
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However, the rereleased film has been synced with an iPad app that gives users the ability to play games, sing-a-long to the movie and interact with the characters.
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