Let’s cut to the chase, I DNF’d at 60miles. DNF (Dalemain, No Further).
The circular route encompasses the whole of the Lakeland fells with about 23000ft of elevation starting in Coniston, heading South before completing a clockwise loop which takes in the Dunnerdale fells, Eskdale, Wasdale and Buttermere, Keswick, then onto Matterdale and continues over to Haweswater before returning via Kentmere, Ambleside and Elterwater to the finish at Coniston.
The route page 1 (you may need to zoom in!)
The route page 2 (Again, will require zooming in!)
It’s a fantastically organised event with strict qualifying criteria, tightish cut offs at the start of the course, 14 check points and amazing camaraderie from fellow runners and volunteers.
The Deets!
The course is beautiful, challenging and enjoyable. You need to have strong hiking skills for the summits and climbs, experience of running over night(s) managing sleep deprivation, be happy with food self-sufficiency using just aid stations or carrying your own, have no outside crew support and enjoy bog trotting, mountain valleys and scree/stony paths – all whilst being unsure what Lakes weather will prevail.
Nails matching bib colours, natch!
As it turned out race day 2025 was pretty good – about 18 degrees, 5 mph winds but incredible humidity at 85% (felt more). No rain to speak of and some sunshine during the lunchtime of day one. The weather had been hot for a few weeks, some of the trails were very dry, but there had been some recent rain, and rest assured there were still some boggy and muddy sections out on the route.
What’s your story theme this year
The Lakeland 50 was completed twice – in 2021 and 2024 (12:36:42) – so I used the latter as my qualifying race (needs to be sub 16 hrs) and entered the ballot listing out my experience.
In April 2025 (having completed the Northern Traverse 186miles/28000ft followed by a sub 4 hrs Boston Marathon 26.2m two weeks later) my body, legs, feet and brain were exhausted but elated for a while, so my training block for Lakeland 100 was incredibly short. I was relying on the previous months of mountain training, plus my knowledge of the back end of the Lakeland course to get me through.
May consisted of ticking over, recovering and factoring in some heat training which was exhausting but necessary. During the Northern Traverse I had suffered badly in the heat and needed to address it which paid off dividends on race day. I returned to hill training and longer distance time on feet but the love wasn’t there, my heart wasn’t fully in it. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Why listen to that voice in your head, when you have learned to ignore it so much when in the depths of the pain cave during an event? I ticked off the training, continuing to monitor how I felt. I wasn’t feeling the pressure, as we were going up to the Lakes anyway for a break, so if I was feeling the love for the race then I would collect my race pack and toe the start line. If not, it would be a good break and a few hikes in the hills.
June came with a great race ticked off as a training run at Box Hill – Marathon/4600ft in the middle of a heat wave and the body felt good. First lady over the line in 5:22hrs. I was quietly reassured I was on track to get to the start line with one month to go.
Off to visit these places en route
Race week arrived – we trekked the 6 hrs up to the Lakes, installed ourselves in our glamping pod, picked up the race pack and felt ready. The race starts at 6pm – a new one for me – but I knew I had 4 hours before darkness fell and I wanted to get to Boot (2nd Checkpoint) before donning my head torch (albeit I had it in a front pocket just in case). The start line felt like some kind of initiation ceremony with Nessun Dorma being sung, a trail prayer from the local vicar and setting off to AC/DC’s Thunderstruck. The streets out of the school start line and up through Coniston were lined with supporters, it felt like a privilege to be there – lots of cheering, amazing!
My Lakeland 100 Profile
As you approach the first climb, the hiking track narrows and you stop as there is a tight little gate/path to squeeze through, so 5 mins of dead time whilst I gently nudged my way to get to the pathway – felt like standing queuing for the Waterloo & City line (all those years of commuting not wasted, ready for this moment)!
Up on the first climb out of Coniston – Walna Scar Road/2200ft – and hike, hike, hike to the top which all felt pretty good. I hiked this section the day before to remind my “living by a river legs” that the mountain goat legs need to be engaged! Up a wide stony good track, everyone settles, you get into your stride and thinned out with more space. The plan was to not go out too fast as you could really overcook yourself up the first climb, but be mindful of the cut offs.
Fortunately, I am not usually someone who worries too much about cut offs, but for this race I was mindful. Apparently a “brisk walker” can get around the course in the allocated 40 hours, but personally I don’t think this in reality feasible, without some trotting on the downs and the flatter sections, especially until you get past Braithwaite which is a meagre 50km/8675ft in 12 hours. My provisional race plan had me aiming to get to Wasdale Head, Buttermere and Braithwaite with at least 30 mins under each cut off to be sure of having a successful journey to the finish line. I felt comfortable.
The Trail
Feeling the pressure slightly, but in a good way, I felt confident and it gave me focus. This was confirmed as I ticked off the checkpoints; my planned timings were achievable. Wasdale Head with 30 mins under, Buttermere 40 mins under, then Braithwaite 50 mins under. By the time I reached Blencathra it was over an hour. Happy days.
The climbs felt fine, having creatively done some decent hiking sessions on the treadmill, and up and around Box Hill. I settled into a ‘steady pace’, slipping into the conga line up and over each one as they arrived. After darkness, it was beautiful to look back down at the trail of headlamps weaving their way behind (or ahead of you and then you really knew where you were going). I wanted to stop to take a photo but didn’t want to lose my place in the line as there were some interesting chats occurring with fellow runners. I felt in control; I was enjoying the ride and the trail banter. Everyone was kindly looking out for each other, especially coming down off the climbs as there were some pretty nasty sections, grabbing onto a fence at one point to avoid slipping over and falling. My poles were out.
Legs 2 and 3 were boggier than expected, using poles, navigating mostly around the mud and failing miserably on the boggy moorland. I was desperate to avoid getting my feet too wet – instantly regretting not wearing waterproof socks but thinking ‘not much I can do about it now’ which would come back to haunt me. In places the route was less well defined into the bog with the water over our shoes. A few under my breath choice words and pushed on ignoring the squelching of my feet, thinking delightfully the cold water had cooled my feet down.
Gorgeous views!
Typically, once down off the climbs you are into a valley, check point and out again for another climb, on repeat. In between each checkpoint, I was fuelling on carb drink with sodium and sports nutrition, some tasty tried and tested snacks which I had packed in my hill bag and front hikers’ pack. Whilst the front pack can seem a bit cumbersome, it’s so handy to have the snacks right there in front of you whilst juggling poles and climbs.
At the checkpoints I planned to eat real savoury foods to mix it up with the ongoing sugary sports nutrition, but in reality there were limited options at times…
Seathwaite (7m) – Quick top up of carb drink and electrolytes water.
Boot (14m) – A banana, more carb drink and electrolytes.
Wasdale Head (19.4m) – Cup of green tea & ginger plus half round of cheese & pickle sarnie, with more bottle top ups.
Buttermere (26.3m) – Same as WH.
Braithwaite (32.8m) – Time to sit to have my self-mulled porridge pot with more tea and bottle top ups. They had tomato sauce pasta on offer but it was 6am – breakfast hour – who wants pasta for breakfast?
Blencathra (41.3m) – Checkpoint only had cakes as had run out of food – was disappointed and hungry for my second breakfast. They had gluten free bread so I managed to bag a slice with butter (everyone was desperate for toast!) but it wasn’t enough. Felt sorry for those behind on the trail. More tea. More bottle top ups.
Dockray (50m) – Tomato soup (don’t even like tomato soup but desperate) and dunked in some of the last available cheese & pickle sarnies (again they then ran out of cheese!). More tea. More bottle top ups.
I carry my own green tea & ginger tea bags on these events (I find they settle my stomach) and dunk in ginger snap biscuits. Feels like a bit of home out there with me on the course!
Catbells and Fell pony & foal
On exiting Braithwaite, and after having a bit of nausea sickness (but not in someone’s front garden I hasten to add), I started trotting out on the tarmac and was joined by Julie P. We started chatting and doing some “strides” on the flatter sections, egging each other on. Shall we do 50 or 100 this time? ‘Let’s run to the lamp post’ type of stuff. It was nice to have some company. It was Julie’s second Lakeland 100 so she knew the route.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t had the opportunity to recce the first 60 miles of the route (most unlike me). There wasn’t enough time in between April’s events and our July visit to the Lakes; plus couldn’t justify the expense or time off work. However, I felt confident it would be fine as about 700 competitors and usually mid pack, I am good with my Garmin GPX and my map reading skills. At times I felt like a novice runner, as most of the others around me were chatting about it being their X attempt of the course or living “locally” and knowing the course intimately whereas I hadn’t a clue! But I reassured myself that I knew the second half of the course fully, so just thought ‘get to Dalemain without getting lost, and you’re all good’!
At Blencathra (40m into the course), my feet were very sore. Not usually an issue, so was surprised. As part of the usual preparation I’d taped my toes, balls of my feet, and heels, covered my feet in trench foot cream, wrestled them into my long compression socks (a workout in itself) and wore my comfortable La Sportiva’s with usual insoles.
On reaching Dockray (50m) my feet were now incredibly swollen and I knew I had blisters on the soles of my feet, heels and in between my toes, with burning pain throughout both feet. I didn’t need to remove any layers to take a look to know. There were other runners around me at the checkpoint seeking medical attention, having blisters dressed and bailing from the course. The medic said this year was worse for blister treatment – strange. I had a little cry to myself and decided to push on.
Traffic en course!
At Dalemain (60m), 20 hours into the race, having spent the last 20 miles hobbling and grimacing with the pain, I reviewed my options. The paracetamol wasn’t helping; neither was the footcare. Enough was enough and I had to reluctantly call it. Still under cut off by 90 mins, but decided I did not need to spend another 20 hours out on the course, hobbling about in pain. These events are supposed to be mainly enjoyable. Incredibly, the rest of my body felt largely fine. I was tired, as is to be expected with no sleep and still not fully recovered from April’s endeavours, which could be seen in my timings along the course, but I could manage that. I knew taking part in this event was going to be a slower experience than I could achieve if I had experienced a proper full-length recovery and training block leading into it. I had thrown the dice, taken a risk and it was all paying off nicely; until it wasn’t. Fuelling/hydration all good, kit fine, pace all good, energy levels all fantastic. The feet however were another matter. They were calling it.
Dalemain = DNF. Dalemain, (but) No Further.
I felt deflated and sad to ask to retire, but not alone. There were plenty of others who came hobbling into Dalemain at the same time, requesting the tracker be pulled from their pack so they could “retire” as the organisers delicately put it. It was the right decision. I couldn’t even hobble to the food table, just sit and wait until the cavalry arrived to collect me.
In the car, I braved removing my socks and tape to reveal trench foot symptoms, blisters on soles and heels and in between toes on both feet. Right foot worse than left foot. After a shower, nurse Jay lanced my blisters and we dressed them best we could but I couldn’t put my feet on the floor – it was laughable. There was no way I would have made it back to Coniston on my own two feet!
A few days later, and after an appointment at the local foot clinic for treatment, I am still happy I made the correct call. It’s a tough course, and it’s most definitely doable, but the foot issues need some learnings and resolutions for next time – perhaps just my waterproof socks would be the simplest solution.
I have reframed the experience as a “Route Recce” and very happy to have bagged 100k/12000ft of elevation. I’ve now done the whole course (in two parts) and will at some point be back to do the entire Lakeland 100 in one swoop. Never defeated, always looking for learnings, ways to adapt and overcome issues. Happy days. Now to focus on a proper recovery block.
