THE BOB GRAHAM ROUND

Sunday, 5th June 2011

I had come to running in the late 1980’s at the tail end of the running boom.  Of course standards were so much higher then and athletes of stunning mediocrity, like myself, got dragged along to some quite splendid times. I had known about ‘The Guides Races’ and Bill Teasdale since my youth and yet, in all those years, my fell running has been limited to little more than twenty or so races and a few mountain races abroad.  A hopeless decender and general lack of fell-craft had seen to that.  It came as some surprise therefore when my friend Stuart Williams asked me to be part of his Bob Graham attempt last year. Stuart trained hard, planned meticulously, and was rewarded with an excellent round achieved in foul conditions. Maybe, just maybe, ‘The Bob Graham Round’ would afford me the opportunity to be part of a tradition that had long captured my imagination.

 

Midnight, June 4th 2011.  The day started well enough as Alex Rowe, Charlie Pass and myself made our way up Skiddaw. Then – Oh dear! “The best laid schemes o’mice an’ men gang aft a-gley”. If it comes as puzzlement to seasoned campaigners that we could get lost en-route to Great Calva, you must realise we are not seasoned campaigners. I’d trained and reconnoitred but was ill-prepared for the thick dense mist.  As we stood on Little Calva via Keswick House, it really was the last throw of the dice. Seventy-five minutes late we summated Great Calva and all the slack in the schedule was spent.

Philip Leybourne and Gary Pendlebury accompanied me on Leg 2.  I had hoped to pull some time back but eating on the run had caused nausea.  All would have been lost had Phil not quickly corrected me at Dollywagon Pike. Mercifully that was the last of the mist.

 

I left Dunmail Raise at 9:39am.  Gary expressed some surprise that I was continuing as I had begun to struggle with hip pain.  I realises it was only muscular and, as this was to be a one-off ‘death or glory’ attempt, I would continue whilst there was still a chance.  John Wright and Johnny Houghton joined me on Leg 3.

 

The ‘Long Leg’ seemed to pass quite quickly. I didn’t pull back much time but ‘The Johnnies’ repartee provided the light relief I needed.  As with everyone who helped me today, we shared a common history and reminisced about days passed.  The time Ali Welsh had first taken us to Switzerland and the magnificent Sierre-Zinal Race. Just a few kids with a crazy dream.

I arrived at Wasdale Head at 4:08pm and slumped in the chair. Club captain and life long friend, Finlay McCalman, likened me to Mohammed Ali, Round 14 at ‘The Thriller in Manila’ ‘Take my gloves off’.  Of course Frazier’s corner has already thrown the towel in. “Is it still on?” I asked. “Just” replied Stuart, “but time is tight”. I didn’t answer but, in my exhaustion, mused that time is indeed tight and the only thing we really own. Whatever happened today I was blessed because I was spending some of mine on that which could never be bought.

 

Lee Barlow, Gary Johnston, Chris Lloyd and Stuart accompanied me for Leg 4. Stuart was the only ‘Bob Grahammer’ on the team and a mentor during my preparation – this contribution was to prove invaluable. He upped the pace and ensured I kept to it.

 

One thing that really surprised me during the round was how my energy ebbed and flowed. I stormed up Yewbarrow yet stuttered up Red Pike. The descent off Pillar and ascent up Kirk Fell was my nadir. Kirk Fell, an uncompromising, cruel brute of a hill. Its heartless reward, the defiant Great Gable. ‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help’. It was then Lee repeated his mantra. “Russell, you must seize the opportunity of a lifetime within the lifetime of the opportunity”. I left Great Gable and for the first time since Skiddaw I could sense something other than failure.

 

Honister came and three minutes later at 9:13pm Mark Midgley and Sarah Sherratt accompanied me up Dale Head.  Stuart followed and joined us at the summit.  As I descended Robinson there was some anxiety as it was thought I was cutting it a little fine. Yet, as we hit the path in total darkness, the fells behind us, I suddenly felt in control. “You’re a rod runner at heart aren’t you?” observed Mark. All those years and all those sub-three hour marathons, I wasn’t going to let is slip now.  Gary, Chris, and Lee followed in the car and joined us over the last yards to Moot Hall. I wanted to walk the length of the square but they wouldn’t let me. The guys I could argue with but Sarah - forget it!

 

11:53pm, 71 miles and 343 peaks later and I was back where I started, on the steps of Moot Hall.  In some small way, part of a wonderful tradition and, as I stood there receiving the plaudits, for one brief moment, shoulder to shoulder with ‘The Immortals’ – Fantastic! Absolutely fantastic!

 

Had I learnt anything?  Life had already taught me that the road less travelled is often less travelled for a reason. I was bruised, battered, bloodied and totally goosed. I was, however, truly humbled by the kindness and generosity of spirit shown by everyone who had shared this special day with me.

 

My heartfelt thanks and appreciation goes to them and to everyone involved in “The Bob Graham Round”.

 

Yours in running

Russ Mabbett

Submitted: 25th June 2011

Edited by: Brenda J Earnshaw WRR Editor