How to enjoy the Lakes in a Day

(I started writing this back in November last year. I must have lost interest or become distracted by something else at the time because I never finished it. I noticed it in the "drafts" section of the blog recently, re-read what I had written and decided that it was, after all, probably worth finishing. It looks, cross fingers, as though this year's event may have a chance of going ahead. If you've entered but not done it before, you might be interested on some reflections on how to make it fun...............).

This not a blow by blow account of running a race. It's more an appreciation of a great event and how those of us with more modest abilities and ambitions can really appreciate it. We've recently had the sixth edition of the "Lakes in a Day". If you are one of the many runners who regard this as a demanding challenge that will push you to your limit as you suffer and strive for your best possible time, then you have my utmost respect but what I have to say beyond here probably won't be of interest to you. However, if like me you want to approach the event as wonderful journey through Lakeland to be enjoyed all the way, then stay with me for a while.

Many ultra races start and finish in the same place. It's administratively convenient, both for the runner and the organisation, and has a sort of symmetry. But however good the route, the obstacles and the scenery, it's somehow never as satisfying as starting in one place and finishing many miles and many hours later in somewhere completely different, a real "journey" if you will, an objective on the horizon to aim for. The West Highland Way race is a classic, starting on the outskirts of urban Glasgow and gradually getting wilder along its 95 miles to finish at the foot of Ben Nevis, truly in the Highlands. There many others; I've enjoyed the Hardmoors races along the Cleveland Way, the Northern Traverse along Wainwright's renowned "Coast to Coast" trail, the King Offa's Dyke race which traverses Wales and the stunning Deadwater, from the Scottish border to the Welsh to give just a handful of examples.

And nearer to home we have the beautiful "Lakes in a Day". It does exactly what it says on the tin, in more ways than one. It starts in Caldbeck, a sturdy village on the northern edge of the fells not far from Carlisle, then traverses the whole district southwards to end in chocolate box little Cartmel just a few flat miles from Morecambe Bay. Along the way it takes in wild moorland, airy rock ridges, the second highest mountain massif in the Lakes, ancient woodlands, lakeshore trails and more gentle pastures towards the finish; in effect, a slice of everything the Lake District has to offer. Underfoot you will find grass of all sorts, from tussocks to green sward, dry to often very wet, rocky tracks and pitched paths, short bits of gentle scrambling and in a normal year as much mud to cushion your landings as you might wish for.

With over 13,000 feet of ascent along its 50 miles, the course is no pushover and aspirants seeking a gentle first 50 miler in their career should probably look elsewhere, but the very generous 24 hours allowance for the trip ensures that the great majority of those setting out from Caldbeck eventually make it to Cartmel. Some are faster than others of course, the new record of well under 9 hours set by Ricky Lightfoot this year seems almost incomprehensible to an old jogger like me, but at the other end of the scale the final finishers will make it within the last hour or so allowed. They will be welcomed home by race director James Thurlow who, will by then have been up for well over 24 hours himself. The "Open Adventure" team run by James ensure that this event is always as well organised as any you will have ever encountered.

The start of it all  -  October 2014

I participated in the inaugural year back in 2014. It was a week after another popular Lake District 50, the High Terrain "3 x 3000" (no longer run these days) so a number of us were reasonably tired at the start, but so impressed by the event we were back in 2015 for more. I managed my fastest completion in 2016, but in 2017 was foiled just before the start by two simultaneous punctures driving down the road from Bowness to Cartmel. I started in 2018 when the weather was warm but extremely wet. That was no problem but I became increasingly concerned by the wind speed as we traversed the higher sections of the course. I had been blown off my feet a year or two earlier in Snowdonia; landing a few yards away the result had been cuts and bruises but also a realisation that had I banged my head on landing it might have been a different story. I didn't want a repeat performance so I wimped out at Grisedale Tarn and did not complete the race. But I was back this year for another trip down the course in good weather, reconfirming what a great day out it is.

Compared with the guys at the front of the field, my times are very pedestrian, ranging from fifteen hours on my best attempt to eighteen and a half on my slowest. But regardless of the numbers, I have always made my priority to absorb and enjoy the day to the full without very much reference to the clock. I think this was clear from my fastest finish, when I can't recall looking at my watch between leaving the last checkpoint and crossing the finish line, which I finally reached in an overall time of fifteen hours.........and forty-one seconds!

So how do you get to enjoy Lakes in a Day?

Well, a bit of preparation always helps. For a typical 50 mile ultra the start point is a sound base in distance running. For a race like the Highland Fling, along the first 53 miles of the West Highland Way trail, I have always said that good road marathon ability will pay back much more effectively than any particular hill running training. My son proved this earlier this year, when with almost no trail running experience but coming off a sub three hour marathon time he managed a nine and a half hour finish. But every step of the Fling is runnable, even for a road runner, whereas the Lakes in a Day course is far from that. Assuming that you can run (or jog) a bit and are happy to stay on your feet all day, the basic requirements for LIAD are to be able to walk up hills all day and descend them efficiently, so for a relaxed cruise down the course that's what you have to practice. For anyone north of Crewe (which is where the North starts, as defined by Stuart Maconie in his book "Pies and Prejudice") or west of the Welsh border, this is pretty easy; just go out to your local hill and go up and down it until it's easy. Harder for those further south and east, but what you are doing is trying to improve calves and hamstrings for the ups, quads for the downs, aerobic capacity for both and the ability to make quick decisions and put your feet in the right places when going downhill. So if you have no hills, try and improvise to get the same result, believe me it will really pay off.  I once knew a guy who trained for the UTMB by running up and down the stairs of tower blocks in London - he got round in well under 30 hours so it worked OK.

Another aspect of preparation that's maybe worth a word is selecting your kit. Like almost all races, the LIAD has a mandatory kit list, but again like all other races this should be viewed as a minimum rather than a recommendation. The kit you actually carry will depend not just on the mandatory list but (a) the weather, and (b) how fast you intend to go. A feature of the course is that there is a lot of climbing over the first half, so everyone, whatever speed you go, will get sweaty and clothes will get damp.  If the weather is good enough for you to avoid wearing a waterproof or windproof then there is a chance that you will dry out during the long descent to the halfway checkpoint at Ambleside, if not you will arrive at Ambleside still damp. If you are still strong enough to run the majority of the second half then this will not be a problem as you will stay warm. But if you walk all or most of the course from here as the temperature drops when night falls, you will need more clothes and a fresh dry base layer  -  how much more will depend on the weather forecast and your experience. I would not make a final decision on exactly what to take until the Friday evening, after consulting the Met Office Mountain Weather Forecast - which is very accurate but only for 24 hours ahead.

If you're up with the leaders you will only take the minimum kit, almost certainly in a modern race vest. If you're a middle to back of pack runner you will have a more relaxed time if you know you have enough to cover getting cold because you will be out longer. In this case I believe it's much easier to take a small rucksack with your spare kit protected in drybags, so you don't have to cram everything in, much easier to pack and access. Most people from mid pack to the end will do more walking than running anyway, and the running will be downhill or at worst on the flat, so an extra gram or two to secure your comfort will make very little difference.

Another thing to plan is what and when you're going to eat, but we'll come to that later. Let's stop the preamble now and get to the start.

The start line is as convivial as you could wish for, with coffee and a warm place to hide in the pub on the start line. No need to stand around in the cold outside. You know the race will start at precisely 8am, because RD James is keen on that sort of thing.

After the count-down the great majority of the field will run off at various speeds down the road. I don't normally bother to join in because it soon goes uphill and then there will be a queue to get into the narrow path leading to the lane up to Nether Row. After this constriction, the lane goes slightly uphill on asphalt for a mile or so. Jog if you're keen or cold, I find it saves very little time over a brisk walk which is anyway good enough to get you warmed up a bit for the day ahead.

Once through the last gate and out onto the open fell you start the first climb of the day, a mile and a half of gentle ascent to High Pike. The first half is on a jeep track so you can go at your own pace, but the second is up a narrow trod. Unless you come up behind someone going extremely slowly here it's worth just staying in the queue and going with the flow; pulling out into the rough grass alongside to overtake costs far more energy than the time saving is worth. This is a hill where heavy breathing definitely isn't necessary; if you've got your feet of ascent in the bank from your preparation just take it easy and cruise this one to arrive at the top feeling you're just nicely warmed up.

An easy jeep track follows, downhill at a gradient that makes running really easy, I normally have my first run of the day here. It continues like this with one or two slight undulations to the wooden Lingy Hut near the top of Grainsgill Beck. There are some damp bits and a few puddles along the way and you'll see runners carefully trying to avoid getting their feet wet. Don't bother with this energy-wasting exercise, just plough straight through  -  you're going to ford a river in twenty minutes or so anyway. On the early editions of the race there was no path from the Lingy Hut over Coomb Height, but an obvious trod has now developed so it's easiest just to follow it. However, pay attention when you are over the crest and start to go downhill. This whole hillside used to be deep heather and really hard going if you got a bad line, but the top half all burnt off in a fire in 2016 so now as the trod starts to disappear it is easy ground and you can run almost anywhere. If you carry straight on in the same line, the trod re-appears as it goes through the lower section of heather. This is still quite difficult though, and a better tactic is to start to trend leftwards as you lose the trod on the crest, this soon leads to a quad bike track which takes you easily all the way down to the River Caldew.

In the five times I have crossed this river on the event, it has been a completely dry hop over boulders once, a shin-deep wade twice, a slightly more than knee-deep wade protected by a safety rope once and a bridge built by James' team once. The year I missed (2017) there was also a bridge. Even if there is a bridge you won't get away with dry feet as immediately after the river you have to cross another  smaller but still significant stream. So whatever you meet, the deal is don't faff and just get on with it.

Bridge over the Caldew in a "wet" year

Once over the two streams you face the longest climb on the course to the top of Blencathra. Again, for the first two or three years this started as trackless tussocky grass where everyone picked their own line, but a trod has now developed making life much more pleasant and less strenuous. Nevertheless, if you are a pedestrian at my end of the field it's going to take you an hour's steady plod to reach the top, so engage a suitable gear, think nice thoughts and get on with it. If you can get into a good rhythm you can reach an almost zen-like state on climbs like this where it really seems no effort at all. The key is to go at a pace that you could keep up all day, don't stop and don't break the rhythm. About half way up you join the bigger track coming up from Mungrisdale Common which leads directly to the eastern summit of Blencathra where Sharp Edge comes out.  You will see runners peeling off this track to cut across the grass directly to the main summit; don't follow them, it is marginally shorter on the map but over trackless grass and hard work. From the eastern top it is a five minute or less stroll on nice short grass to the main summit, where you will find a marshal who will almost certainly be Joe Faulkner. He was there in his tent in the mist in 2014 and has been there every time I've done the event since (I think he goes home in between times though).

It's worth noting that all this ground from the Lingy Hut to Blencathra summit becomes harder in mist as there are places where there is no visible track on the ground. The field is so big these days that there will normally be a few people still in sight unless the mist is really thick, but if you're not confident of your navigation this is one bit of the course where a recce could be valuable.

In 2014 we all shot off down Hall's Fell Ridge into the thick mist and scattered in all directions. After a few hundred feet I knew I'd made a mistake, stopped and got the map out (the 1:25,000 OS, not the one James gives you at the start which tells you where the course goes but is really not a big enough scale to actually navigate by). I realised I'd gone way to the right so I traversed back and found the ridge again and descended with no further incident. The race photos show lots of people that year emerging from the gulley to the west of the ridge so I clearly wasn't the only one. Most other years we've had much clearer conditions, the field has been bigger, and the number of marshals on the ridge has grown from zero in 2014 to I think at least four this year, so it's not easy to lose the way now.  But the rule that I've learned over the years for this section is if in doubt, the left-hand option at almost all points is the best way. The actual scrambling down the ridge is very easy and not exposed (no big drops), so unless you are of a very nervous disposition it should cause no difficulties if you take your time and go carefully. Ten years ago I could descend this ridge in about thirty minutes, but this year it took me over fifty as I'm getting a bit older and less nimble, but even if you take an hour that's still fine as far as completing the race comfortably goes.

Down Hall's Fell in 2014

From the farm at the bottom of the ridge, the Bob Graham Round (which also descends this way) goes straight on across the main A66 to Newsham House, followed by a boggy track up to the Old Coach Road and a very steep pull up Clough Head. Clough Head is also the next main objective of LIAD, but by way of an altogether more pleasurable experience.

Easy jogging through a few downhill fields leads to the first checkpoint at Threlkeld Village Hall.

The checkpoints, or "feed stations" as they are referred to on Open Adventure events, are something special. On LIAD they are all in warm, spacious indoor locations so you can get warm and dry and regroup a bit emotionally (not that that will be necessary if you take my pleasure-oriented approach to the day of course), with lashings of tasty food appropriate to the time of day. Now this is where one of your strategic decisions  comes in. After Threlkeld there is at least two miles of easy runnable ground, and after the Ambleside checkpoint a lot more, but you won't be running it if you eat your fill. So you really have to decide whether you're a runner or a tourist at this point. For one of my completions on the course I pretended to be a runner, grabbed a quick cup of coffee, stuffed a sandwich and a handful of jelly babies in my bag and was on my way jogging down the road in a couple of minutes or so. But that's really no fun, so every other time I've taken the tourist approach, enjoyed ten or fifteen minutes rest, a couple of mugs of tea and enough croissants to see me through the next few miles, then walked out of the hall and all the way to the next climb. For a pleasurable trip it's also useful to fill up your water bottles here because you won't get another chance for some time.

The climb up Clough Head, the northernmost outpost of the Helvellyn range, is the last really big one of the day. The course used to take the Bob Graham route but as this has now deteriorated into a slippery scar up a steep grassy grassy hillside due to the passage of so many feet in recent years, James has changed it for a more durable approach up from the old quarry at the end of the Old Coach Road. A mile or so of quiet asphalt is required to get you there but worth the effort because the climb is then steady rather than taxing. The first few hundred feet rather puzzlingly avoids a good path by a line up the grass a few hundred yards to its left, but keep the faith, the path is reached before long and takes you without too much trouble to the top of the hill, and the start of one of the best running ridges in Lakeland.

Start of the ridge from Clough Head towards Helvellyn

Breakfast should have gone down by now so you have the opportunity of a fine, grassy, slightly descending run for the next mile to the vicinity of Calfhow Pike. The ground starts to go uphill from here again, and though the speedy will continue running there is no need to as a steady walk will be almost as quick. On LIAD we are not required to visit the summits of the Dodds, but although there is a track shown on the map that avoids the first (Great Dodd) by going right, the start of the track is not clear on the ground. I've found it's best to slant off earlier rather than later but keep going diagonally uphill, the track will then appear soon enough and take you easily round the re-entrant of Millgill Head. From here, good tracks and mostly easy running avoid Watson's Dodd and Stybarrow Dodd and land you at the col of Sticks Pass. There should be plenty of runners around still, wherever you are in the field, but if it looks like being misty and you're not confident of your navigation it may be worth having a gps trace on your watch from Clough Head to here.

The ground changes here and you will be on stony tracks for the next few miles until beyond Fairfield, but on the plus side it becomes navigationally very easy. A series of steady ups and shortish downs (as you're gaining height all the time) lead over Raise, Whiteside and Helvellyn Lower Man to Helvellyn summit. There's a good shelter just beyond the summit to cower beside for a few minutes for a breather and some food and drink, if it's turning out to be that sort of day. A wide, easy track takes you jogging southwards from here but if your mind wanders and you miss the slightly uphill path at the junction a few hundred yards further on you'll end up down by Thirlmere with a long walk back up, so best to stay alert. The path gets rockier as you traverse below the summit of Dollywagon Pike, then turns into an engineered rock staircase almost all the way down to the outflow of Grisedale Tarn.

I've normally run out of water here so this is where I fill up, in the moving current of the tarn outflow; I'm always happy with this source but if you're nervous you can put a purifier tab in the bottle to be extra sure. At this point most runners are about two thirds of the way (in time) between Threlkeld and Ambleside. On one of the warmer editions of LIAD I passed a lady runner on the ascent of Fairfield who said she was worried because she was very short of water; I hadn't the heart to comment that she'd just passed several million gallons of it.

Descending towards Grisedale Tarn  -  water here!

The climb up Fairfield is not as bad as you think it's going to be; it's steep but short, only about a thousand feet and it gets easier as you go up. And you know it's the last significant climb on the whole course. From the wide stony wilderness at the top you are rewarded with a nice jog down to the final rocky obstacle, Hart Crag. I'm always beginning to feel I've had enough rocky ground by here but again it's not too long. After the first bit of ascent the path seems to want to skirt the summit by going left, but you can pick up the line of cairns and worn rocks going back right easily enough. It's a bit scrambly from the top down to the next col, but this is where the ground changes back to mostly grass again.

Easy walking (and a bit of jogging if you're keen) to the top of Dow Crag leaves you with probably the last major decision of the day. From Dow Crag the route goes due south for about three miles, following a solid stone wall all the way. There is a path on either side of the wall but ways through or across the wall are few and far between. So do you choose left or right?  The more established track is on the left (east) side, but the passage of feet has taken its toll. It's good solid running for periods, interspersed with the occasional deep bog and threadbare little rocky descents. The other (west) side is much grassier, occasionally slippery on the downhills but much kinder on the feet which may be a consideration by now. Either way, this is the opportunity to get that average pace,  which has taken such a beating over the last few miles, back up again with a good solid run all the way down to Ambleside. These days I normally take the west side, on which the path runs out eventually forcing you back over to the east just above a last little rocky step in the path which I've never managed to find a way around. It needs a couple of handholds and possibly an inelegant final slither to deposit you on easy ground which leads through fields and a bit of road down to the next checkpoint in Ambleside church hall, and pizza! This whole descent from Dove Crag to Ambleside can be pure pleasure all the way if you get it right.

The "right" side of the wall towards Ambleside

Now many runners may think they've put in a good shift by now, feeling pretty battered by the ground and maybe the elements, and wondering how they're going to cope with another 22 miles, because all that effort has so far only resulted in 28 miles of progress down the course. And it's starting to get dark. The key here is to forget about all that sort of stuff for 15 minutes or so, change into a dry shirt, put on some clean shoes and socks, have a cup of tea and enjoy the pizza (or the soup, or sandwiches, or fruit, or whatever else takes your fancy, it will probably be there). When the world feels a whole different and much friendlier place again, make sure your torch is working and head out for "something completely different"  - the second half. In spite of the hour and what has gone before, you will now start to cover the ground much faster  -  really, you will!

Where it gets dark of course depends on your time. The leaders will finish in daylight, the best I've done is to get to Sawrey, six or seven miles south of Ambleside, before switching the lamp on. For my last trip (and I'm pretty sure the next one) Ambleside is where the darkness begins.

When we ran the first edition back in 2014 James had put three or four arrows to show the way up to and around High Dam near the southern end of Windermere because none of the available maps reflected what was actually on the ground. The rest of the route was unmarked, resulting in runners getting lost all over the area between Ambleside and the finish (demonstrating what competent navigators we all were....).  Since then, signage has been improved on this section year on year (more I suspect for the benefit of the local residents rather than the runners) so that it's now possible to run from Ambleside to Cartmel rarely if ever consulting a map or other navigational aid.

Out of Ambleside the course follows gravel cycle tracks alongside or not too far from the road for several miles, almost as far as Wray, where a short road section leads into the forest on Claife Heights. A gentle climb on good forest paths reaches the summit then easy jeep tracks down the other side (nice views if it's still light!) to Far Sawrey village. Half a mile of narrow road leads to Windermere shore.  All the ground from the high point in Claife woods to the lakeshore is runnable, even for tiring pensioners. A mile along the lake shore seems further than it is, narrow paths through fields and woods, along the water's edge (and one year in the lake), but still joggable without too much effort. Another short road section then more of the same along the lakeshore, just as tortuous but still only just over a mile. The lake is finally finished with as you cross the road by the YMCA centre.

Now unless you're prepared the next fifteen minutes will be an unpleasant surprise. Since Ambleside the course has been rolling along with occasional gentle uphills but nothing too taxing, so to be faced with a real climb this late in the affair seems somehow a bit unsporting. The track from the road up to High Dam is very steep; but it is short enough to be taken (by someone out to enjoy their day at least) very slowly. That's the key to success in my book. Once you're up there High Dam seems a quite magical place, I always feel I should go and see what it's like in daylight one of these days. Across the tarn edge then easy going down through some pleasant woods leads to a couple of gentle downhill fields and the final checkpoint in Finsthwaite Village Hall.

By the time I get here this always feels like a little oasis on some long trade route; travellers coming in out of the night and then going off again, having tended to their needs and replenished their supplies. People eating, drinking, sleeping, mending feet, sometimes just sitting and staring; helpers making drinks, bringing food, offering encouragement. It's this place above all that makes LIAD feel like something much beyond its 50 mile length, more reminiscent of scenes on much longer events. I'm always in two minds whether to stay a while and enjoy the atmosphere or push straight on and just get the thing done. In the end I'm normally tempted by at least a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee to see me through to the end.

Just two or three hours to the finish now but still plenty of variety. A brief climb through woods out of Finsthwaite leads to a steeper narrow descent with multiple steps all the way down to civilisation at Newby Bridge. The Swan Hotel appears from the left with suitable cheering from patrons in the garden if you're early enough. Across the main A590 then a bit more uphill on a minor road gets you to about a mile and a half of bridleway to Brow Edge. This starts off as an easy jeep track but turns into a rough trod across moorland pasture; if there's been any rain at all recently this will be muddy and slippery pretty well all the way, but a lot of extra effort will only result in five minutes saved so time to take it easy and wait for better ground to appear.

Knock the worst of the mud off and carry on, a brief down and up along a narrow surfaced lane, then right along a driveway past stables to Bigland Tarn. The going is good again here along good tracks and paths without too much ascent or descent, though you will probably get the odd cow looming out of the darkness from time to time. A pleasant easy descent through woods leads to the last road crossing at Grassgarth. Then a final up and down over mostly grassy tracks in easy fields (though with a rather weird stile construction at the halfway point) comes out at Speel Bank Farm, from where you are on asphalt through to the finish. 

You may feel that it's just a bit cruel to be faced with a final climb on the road, but it comes early on and is thankfully brief, then it's nearly two miles of gentle downhill to the finish. If you've paced things well enough to enjoy a steady jog all the way home from here you will generally pass plenty of limping, hobbling and "just taking it easy" runners along the way. As you pass the racecourse and approach the town you will be guaranteed some final support, from the pubs if it's early enough, from runners that have already finished making their way pack to the racecourse car park if it isn't. Then just out of the other side of the village to the school and you're done. Congratulations, warmth, food and a satisfying sit down are waiting.

This really is a grand day out. Will I be back in 2020? No question.

2019 Finish  -  not fast but still fun!