OMM Howgills

Peaks: Arant How, Breaks Head, West Fell, Green Bell, Wild Boar Fell, Swarth Fell

An ill-fated attempt at the OMM elite in perfect weather conditions. After my slowest 10k time for 5 years, I'd been feeling sluggish all week with a developing cold, but still wasn't fully prepared for quite how bad I felt within 30 minutes of starting day one. This was a serious problem, as the weather was good (although desperately cold, following a night of -3c spent in the back of Mick's car in Sedbergh), and Mick was fully prepared for the big two days in the hills. However, the scale of the Elite course is such that you need 100% fitness and commitment to have any chance of success. We contoured round a gap between two hills to pick up the second checkpoint at the top of the steep valley below Brant Fell. Superb views as the sun rose and lit the frosty northern slopes of the hills. I began to struggle immediately on the very steep climb west towards Arant How, although perked up for the run down to CP3 in a hidden re-entrant. Then came a massive 8k leg, for which I picked a decent route contouring the western valleys to pick up the big stream valley coming down from Breaks Head. We finally crested this at the obvious col SE of the summit, ending up in terrain familiar from the 2009 Rab. Good sunny running down the ridge, really good, led to more contouring and CP4, after which we ran up Langdale for another sadistic leg involving two huge climbs over West Fell to Bowderdale, then over another ridge to Weasdale before dibbing CP5 below the summit of Green Bell. I was now really suffering, and very unsure about what to do. A series of easy checkpoints lef across the road to leave the Howgills and enter the very different limestone terrain to the east. After finding a rather technical CP5, hidden in a small valley alongside many other valleys, we realised we were actually doing quite well. My route planning early on combined with Mick's excellent micro-navigation to land us bang-on every control with maximum efficiency. But I could not sort my legs and lungs out, as I felt myself enveloped by my cold. The boggy climb up Wild Boar Fell was a desperate struggle as a result. My feet had now had five hours of icing and were completely numb, which didn't help - neither did the fact that the checkpoint involved a scramble down the steep east slope from the summit followed by a trog through a Maritime Alps style boulder field to gain an obvious small lake. I felt like I was damaging myself now, and was also mindful of the fact that I'd be running for Wales in two weeks time, so called it a day on Swarth Fell. I was gutted for Mick, but he understood and had already realised that I wasn't myself. Having been let down by a partner retirement myself in 2007, however, I knew what it felt like. So we trudged back west to the overnight camp before embarking on the ultimate walk of shame, 12k or so back to the car at Sedbergh, ironically increasing our mileage for the day to well over 42k.