What a weekend! (part two - we survived)

After a pretty shocking night's sleep, (due in part to the general fretting, waiting for the trainers to materialise, then just not being able to shut off), we staggered down to breakfast. The B and B only started serving food at 8.30am on a Sunday morning, so I was torn as to whether to enjoy the luxury of a cooked breakfast, or keep things relatively light as we were meant to start running at 9am. In the end, I couldn't resist and made a poor attempt at compromise by not having the full works, but having scrambled egg, sausage and mushrooms with a side of yoghurt and fruit. It was delicious.

You might notice there is a bit of a recurring theme with lateness and me and my husband's attempts to get anywhere together; left to our own devices, we're pretty good time keepers, but as a pair we are next to useless! So it will come as little surprise that we ended up jogging from the hotel to Lakes Runner for the recce start a little after 9am.

It was great to see that the coach too was late, so we were able to loiter nonchalantly like nothing was wrong and it also gave us a chance to catch up with some of the runners we had met at the event in the summer. There were a few other runners with dogs, but Benny seemed unconcerned by them, so I was pleased. A little after 9.15 we were off...

We kept with the group for the first mile or so. This was the part of the course in the summer that I had decided to tackle solo in the dark after being in a group with people that had known better than I where we were supposed to be running. When I had last been at Lake Runner on that night in July I had actually felt like a bit of a fraud having run 35 odd miles or so without having to navigate once, so had set off into the night alone, armed only with my head torch, map and road book on the way to Chapel Stile. Back then, all had gone well for a couple of miles, but then I had begun to panic when a supposed third gate seemingly failed to appear on the path I was following, and in my dithering other runners had caught up with me and I fell back into following. This was one of the other reasons I really wanted to recce the course; next year, I want to know where I'm going, and maybe help others who are in the situation I was this summer.

I cannot tell you how unbelievably different it all looked in daylight! I recognised the key features that had allowed me to follow the instructions in the road book, but the rest of the surroundings, which were invisible in the light of a head torch, were totally unlike anything I had imagined. The bubble of light I had run in then was expanded to show the most beautiful scenery (well, it is the Lakes after all).

However, back to the recce. Benny was coping well with the terrain, the company, the other dogs. But there was one thing that I hadn't anticipated...sheep! As a collie-x raised in a city, it appears the little Bear had never seen a sheep before and to say he was keen to get closer and find out more is a bit of an understatement. So started a dispute that was to last for the whole of the run; whenever we encountered sheep, I would have to battle to keep him on course and on task, but to give him his due, he did respond when asked. By the time we reached the first checkpoint, the runners on the recce were fairly spaced out and we were among the tail-enders, but I had never intended to run at pace - pottering was order of the day.

The stretch between Chapel Stile and Tilberthwaite I need to keep revisiting if I am to crack the route past Blea Tarn - it is indistinct and boggy in daylight, at night it is a proper mystery. It also has two ladder stiles, which I suspect will become Benny and mine nemeses. The first one we encountered, I lifted Benny onto the platform, then encouraged him to make a leap off on to the other side. Which he did. And he landed in two foot of bog, sank, rolled over a boulder and certainly did not enjoy the experience. So when we reached the second (less than 100 yards further on) he was, understandably, less than keen to repeat the leap. I lifted him on to the platform, clambered over and tried to lift him down and here we came unstuck again. There is a reason there are ladder stiles over these obstacles, the walls are very high, but I am not very tall. To keep my balance I had to try and lift Benny while keeping either a foot on the floor or the first step, meaning Benny ended up above my head. Now, I can see this from his point of view, but I was less than amused at the time, as he decided the best way down was actually to hitch a lift off the top by sitting on my head. May I remind you that he had just waded through deep bogs? He then proceeded to slide down my face, onto my shoulder, chest, waist and down to the floor. You can only imagine the mess I ended up in. To compound the situation, the faff-age over the stile had held us up considerably and I could see the rest of the back-of-the-pack runners disappearing into the distance. It looked like my navigation was about to be properly tested.

However, I was rescued (again) by the arrival of a fellow runner, and double L50 veteran who knew the course well. She was, unfortunately, having a bit of a bad day and had found herself unable to run comfortably. I took the decision we were better off sticking together; it would give me more time to set the course in my head, it wouldn't push Benny too hard and it would give our new friend some company, which I hope was appreciated - I always find it's nice to have someone to chat to when you feel a bit lousy as it takes your mind off things. So we pottered off, chatting and walking the rest of the way to the Tilberthwaite checkpoint.

The final stretch takes you up the Tilberthwaite quarry and down in to Coniston. Many runners seemed to have taken various cakes and snacks from the checkpoint to nibble as they climbed the rocky steps, however, they must have had some hand-mouth coordination issues and spread tidbits of food all the way to the summit. I think Benny hoovered up every crumb! It is not easy to climb a rocky path while attached to a scavenging hound, trust me. It is a mere three miles to the decent and home to Coniston, but it is the most brutal decent of the whole course. I took the decision to let Benny off-harness for safety. I did wonder whether he would be a little fatigued after fifteen miles, but he set off, revelling in the freedom, running ahead of me, behind me, having a whale of a time, while I staggered down. The recent rain had made the path pretty treacherous in patches and I did slip and land on my bottom at several points. But soon enough, we were on the road home and staggering into Coniston and toward the beautiful sight of the end.

Well, what did I learn from running with Benny on the recce? We need to work on our harnessed descents. We need to practise getting over stiles. We need to help Benny become desensitised to sheep. I need to buy some knee-high waterproof socks for getting through bogs. We need to revisit this section of the course and go over it again and again.
Oh, and I need to pack my own kit in the car before we leave.

But most of all, I learnt that we have every chance of completing this awesome event this summer, together. I learnt that we have adopted a fantastic little dog that has a boundless spirit  (a love of jam sandwiches) and enthusiasm for all I ask of him. I think it's going to be a fun year :o)