Day 5

26.44 miles

9 hours 42 minutes

High Laning Campsite, Dent to Rugby Club, Settle  So, two easy days left.  That was the plan in my head anyway. It’s funny how quickly you get accustomed to silly distances, as although this route was marathon distance, over tough terrain, including climbing Pen-y-ghent, my head allowed it to be considered easy. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be out, but my longest off road marathon had taken 5.45, so I figured 6 hours would probably do. How laughable this seemed later in the day (after I’d reached ‘home’ of course, as I wasn’t laughing much until then).  We ran through the postcard pretty village of Dent, and picked up the Dales Way again, heading towards the iconic Ribblehead Viaduct. I was raring to go this morning, and kept up with the other four for a while, even overtaking Karen for a couple of miles. But as we climbed up along Deepdale Side next to Whernside, I slowed and let them run on. Running alone is what I do best, and I didn’t want to share today with anyone, easy day or not.  Deepdale In fact by now I wasn’t finding it quite so easy, and the next few miles to the viaduct, though nothing particularly challenging underfoot, were difficult for me. The going was never quite flat, it was more of a gentle climb up, followed by a steep descent down – my least favourite type of going. The desolate moor got to me today, usually I revel in the remoteness of such places, but today I felt very alone and didn’t seem to be making any progress on the route.  Ribblehead Viaduct I reached the viaduct and shortly after that was CP1. Karen was leaving just as I arrived there, and we exchanged grim smiles. It seemed she was having a tough day too.  Fuelled by fruit cake, and with an undulating road ahead of me, I managed to do some running – my first for about 6 miles that day. It warmed me and lifted my mood, and I began to think that the day would be better than I had though an hour previously.  But then the route picked up the Ribble Way, and although I’m sure on any other day it would be a delightful walk, today I just hated it. I learned today that I cannot navigate in a straight line as, as simple as it sounds, I need landmarks or curves or *anything* to work out where I am. On the Ribble Way, where the path went straight on, and there it was just surrounded by rocks and sheep, with not even walls or fences to gauge my progress by, I lost track of where I was very quickly, and soon had no idea where on the 2 mile stretch I was. I didn’t even know how long I’d been on there – whether it had been 5 minutes or 3 hours. I completely lost track of time and distance, and so had no idea where to turn off.  At some point, I must have gone through a bubble of phone reception, as I received a flurry of text messages that had been sent the previous evening. But after I’d replied to the first, the reception had gone again. The path continued on, and on, and on.  Eventually I reached a sign pointing left to Sell Gill. But I didn’t want to go there, so I continued in a straight line, and although there was no clear path, headed down the hill. After a while things began to feel wrong, and checking on my compass, saw that the contour lines that should represent where I was now did not match up with where I should be on the map.  It then dawned on me that although I hadn’t wanted to go to Sell Gill, that didn’t mean that my path didn’t head that way. I couldn’t bear the thought of trudging back up the hill, but the alternative was to go down and up the other side of the valley, and with a farmer working on the fences, I didn’t want to trespass again. Back up the hill it was.  I was furious with myself for being so stupid. I had been so tired that I had missed the obvious. I was battling my head, as I had hardly slept for the last few nights due to the cold, and the lack of sleep was now taking its toll on my concentration. Normally a little diversion wouldn’t bother me, but by now it was clear to me that this was far from an easy day, and any extra mileage was most unwelcome, especially as I still had to climb Pen-y-ghent.  Now began my second bad patch of the week (although I consider myself lucky to have only had two, given that I was out running for over 52 hours during the whole week) and I began to desperately battle tears. I knew the second checkpoint was nearby, and my stupid pride meant I didn’t want to turn up there with a tearstained face. I’d get past them, then I’d have hours to myself in which to cry as much as I wanted. I pushed on, knowing that I couldn’t hold back the tears for long.  At the second checkpoint were just Andy M and one of the film crew, two other crew were waiting on the ascent to Pen-y-ghent to take photos and do some filming. I learnt that Karen had gone back to the last checkpoint and dropped out. I was now fourth overall and the only lady left.  Andy M then gave me a pep talk that transformed my day. I left that checkpoint feeling strong and able, and ready to face the rest of the day, whatever it threw at me. I’d said to him that I kept looking and my Garmin and getting worried by the slow pace it showed. His answer – cover it up. So simple, yet it hadn’t occurred to me. I duly covered up the Garmin and didn’t look at it for the rest of the day.   Horseshoe approach to Pen-y-ghent from the west Pen-y-ghent from the west From Horton in Ribblesdale, I headed north before turning east on the Pennine Way and the south again on the final ascent of Pen-y-ghent. I loved this climb. After Fairfield, I had been nervous about this, but I had nothing to worry about, there was a clear path, it was very walkable, and I felt that if I fell, I’d get a bruise, whereas on Fairfield I felt that if I fell, I’d die.  Ascent of Pen-y-ghent  Ascent of Pen-y-ghent  Summit of Pen-y-ghent, 694m I reached the top, and having acquired some phone reception, wrote a quick blog and ate a banana to fuel myself for the descent. The descent was a little hairy, as it was basically climbing down boulders, but I took my time, and picked my way down at a comfortable pace.  Descent down Pen-y-ghent From the bottom of the rocky descent the path headed south along the moors of Overdale and although it was again a straight path, there was enough by way of fences and walls for me to be able to track my progress, and work out easily on where I was on the map.  Pen-y-ghent from Overdale Down through Stainforth, and once again we finished the day by following a path next to a river for the last few miles, and I entered Settle though the market square, then through the car park and I arrived at the Rugby Club, our home for the evening. Luckily it was a training evening, so we had some entertainment...  As I approached the camp, I looked at my Garmin. I had taken almost 10 hours for marathon distance – my personal worst by almost 4 hours. But instead of disappointment, I felt a great sense of achievement at how my day had changed around, and that I hadn’t given up on the Ribble Way.