I first heard of the Bob Graham Round (BGR) in 2019, when a couple of ultra runners from the club set out on an attempt. They had recruited several fellow club runners as pacers, navigators and ‘checkpoint’ support crew, so the club Facebook group was active with updates throughout the 24 hours. The sense of togetherness and collective support was inspiring, and I was feeling wholly jealous while sat at home. My friend and I immediately vowed to give it a go one day, part serious but part dreaming.
The two guys taking on the challenge that weekend, finished in 21:46. Quite an achievement.
Around two years later, just getting back to some kind of normality after COVID, I received a message from an ex-work colleague (Tom), asking me if I would be interested in supporting him on his attempt at the BGR. I remembered how amazing it looked to be a part of the successful attempt two years ago, so I jumped at the opportunity.
I was going to be support on leg 2 which, for those who aren’t familiar with the round, is the stretch from Threlkeld to Dunmail Raise, which is around 14-15 miles (the difference depends on how well your navigation goes, and whether you get lost or veer off path). Leg 2 is traditionally a night leg. Most attempts start somewhere between 21:00 and the early hours of the morning, depending on what timing schedule the participant is aiming for. Tom started his attempt at 23:00. I forget his target schedule now but, looking back at Garmin, I know we set off on leg 2 at 3am.
Tom had set me up in a bunkhouse in Scales, which is about a mile away from the leg 1/leg 2 switchover, and was pretty perfect, allowing for some light sleep before jogging down as a warm up, and then setting off into the night as his kit mule. I was less pacer, more water carrier, although I was holding the pace well, and leading both Tom and the nav support guy, who had also supported through leg 1, up towards the Helvellyn ridge.
Aside from spending a lot of time on my backside coming down from Dollywaggon Pike, I felt like I was doing OK. That was, until the drag up to Fairfield, which pretty much killed me off. A horrible climb, and the descent wasn’t much better. I was trailing behind him up Seat Sandal and my legs were buckling underneath me on the way down to Dunmail. He had asked if I would potentially rejoin him for leg 5, but I was completely battered and wondered how I’d ever be able to run again, never mind help him over another 3 peaks later that day.
In the end, he didn’t make it to leg 5, calling it a day shortly after Wasdale due to “wobbly vision.”
Eight months later, I was back in Keswick for his second attempt, this time supporting on leg 1. The logistics, for me at least, were less than ideal. I completed my working day, which to be fair is only a little more than a half day on a Friday, drove up to the Lakes, eating my ‘dinner’ during the drive, and then straight into Keswick before setting off for Skiddaw.
The pace was quite quick. Tom was keen to bank some time early on. The leg 1 nav support guy had previously done an 18-hour round, and he would occasionally suggest slowing up a little to save energy for later. If we did, it didn’t feel like it to me. I was flagging towards the end, bearing in mind that this was now 2am and I hadn’t had any sleep or rest whatsoever since 5am the previous morning, but I was still with the guys at Blencathra, which is the final summit in the leg.
Here, the leg 1 specialist asked how I was on scree. They were taking the ‘parachute’ way down, which is almost a sheer drop straight off the side of the mountain and down into Threlkeld. Given that I didn’t know how I was on scree, I was feeling pretty torn up and visibility was limited in the dark skies, I opted not to join them and instead went down Doddick Fell. There was another group making an attempt at the same time, and they were a little behind us. So I hung back for them and tagged on down Doddick, just in case anything went wrong and I ended up in a bad way.
I found the second attempt much harder. It’s difficult to know the exact reason why. Maybe the pace was too strong, maybe I was undertrained, maybe I was tired. Whatever it was, I got back to the support vehicle in Threlkeld and almost collapsed on the back of the car. I silently vowed to never support another attempt and to never give the full round even an ounce of further thought.
The second time, Tom did complete the round, but arrived back in Keswick just 21 minutes over the 24 hour schedule. Gutted! He’s made no noises since of a third attempt.