Kirsty’s Moroccan Adventure

Derwent Valley Running Club

Kirsty Robson was on her travels again, this time hitting Morocco and couldn’t resist the lure of a 10k race – here’s her story…

From Chopwell to Morocco! While most of you were enjoying your usual weekend runs, I found myself lining up for a slightly different experience… the Course de Fès – De Bab en Bab in Morocco!

Race morning started with a “character-building” ride in a tiny red taxi that I’m fairly certain hasn’t seen an MOT in decades. On arrival, bib collection involved navigating armed police, crowds, and general mayhem – all part of the adventure! The start line was incredible – crowds singing and clapping, and before I knew it I was being interviewed and announced over the microphone as being from Newcastle, UK… followed by a cheer from the crowd (slightly embarrassing but also pretty special!).

The race itself? Hot. Very hot. But what it lacked in organisation, it more than made up for in atmosphere. The support was unbelievable — every runner who passed had a word of encouragement, and it really felt like a shared experience. A particular highlight was meeting a runner from a local club who decided – regardless of anything I said – that he was going to stick with me and encourage me the whole way because it was my first race in Morocco.

By the end, I’d not only gained a running buddy but also an open invitation for me and the family to visit his hometown and run another race in Meknes! All in all, a bit chaotic, very warm, but an incredibly memorable and uplifting experience. Safe to say… not your average Sunday run!

Matthew’s LAW75

Derwent Valley Running Club

Returning to web scribe duties after yet another Ultra effort is Matthew Scott! Back in February he took on the little matter of a 75 miler…

LAW75 – https://www.nav4.co.uk/lady-annes-way-75 

If you’re a regular reader of my writing, which let’s face it, you’re probably not, as I don’t write much nowadays apart from for work, you’ll know I like to start off with a teaser. So, this is the story of how I ended my longest ever ultramarathon on my hands and knees cleaning a toilet floor. Along the way, I terrified a small child, made a new canine friend, and learned to hate stiles. 

This is the story of my LAW75, an event put on by the wonderful people at NAV4. The route follows Lady Anne’s Way from Skipton to Appleby in the Yorkshire Dales, a distance of (supposedly) 75 miles. Lady Anne was a remarkable woman, the race description says, not least because she must have loved stiles. Regardless, after a relatively successful 2025 on my feet, interspersed with moments of what can only be described as self-pity at getting older, I decided to start 2026 by taking on something new. An event of firsts: my first 50+ mile adventure, first time going through the day and into a night, first time doing a serious winter ultra. 

I arrive in Skipton the night before, where I religiously observe mine and DB’s tradition of eating a massive pizza and chips at a local pizzeria before an event. In the morning, I scoop alarming quantities of granola and oat milk down my chute, apply a Gulf state’s worth of petroleum jelly to my feet, and quintuple check my kit. A short walk through the town takes us to Skipton Castle, where we will begin our adventure. I’m excited, focused (mostly), and ready to go. In the four weeks it’s been since I signed up for this, I’ve obsessed about it a lot. My watch pings to announce it is ready to light the way, although like any good adventurer, I have not one but two other forms of navigation with me, analogue and digital, plus a last resort third method of placing myself, aside from the GPX. I use none of my three alternative options, apart from once, in anger and frustration, about 17 hours later. 

After a no-nonsense pre-race briefing, the minutes are counted down. At 9am on Saturday 7 February 2026, shouts go up, and we set off to trace Lady Anne’s footsteps northwards through the Dales. 

Skipton-Kettlewell

The first 20 miles pass pleasantly enough. On the climb out of Skipton, we are greeted by the first of 7,650 muddy fields and the first, second, third, and fourth of 80,000 stiles across the route. Not only are there so many stiles, but each one has seemingly been designed to bring a unique and exciting form of peril to the unsuspecting race participant. 23 or so hours later, close to Appleby, with my legs and hips screaming each time I clamber over one, I resolve never to see or interact with another stile ever again. 

Happily, at Barden the stiles soon give way (a bit) to a gorgeous, runnable trail alongside the River Wharfe. I am a bit too hot in my base layer, North Face fleece, and waterproof, but feel joyous nonetheless: the river froths and gurgles through the valley, the sky is miraculously blue, not grey, and only a light tickle of wind caresses our skin. We move through Burnsall and then the quaint town of Grassington, where I wrestle with whether or not to buy a sandwich of some kind from one of the shops, eventually deciding not to. Then our calves are called into real action for the first time as a gradient appears. However, the joy of being in this landscape stays with me despite the climb up through – you guessed it – more fields and stiles. The clag descends, or rather we ascend into it, but the navigation is simple enough, and I arrive at CP1 in Kettlewell feeling fresh, alert, and hungry. 

I have spent a lot of time before this event planning my CP activities. I have packed my drop bag meticulously: cables and electrics at the top; food to carry below that; with other items (including my chocolate pistachio truffle eggs and white chocolate Toblerone triangles – more on those later) towards the bottom. Feeling efficient, I jab my watch into the charger connected to my power bank, take off my gloves, and stuff my headtorch and some flapjacks and the like into my pack before setting it down. I then demonstrate my unwavering commitment to CP gluttony: pizza, sandwiches, banana, some crisps for salt, a bit of brownie for sugar, all are consumed. I am feeling so smug at my efficiency that I completely forget to fill my water bottles until one of the several incredibly kind and helpful volunteers asks if they can do it for me. Leaving the CP with empty water bottles would not have been wise. I gratefully accept, popping an electrolyte tablet into each before asking for them to be filled with ‘the purple one’ – blackcurrant, or similar, surely. 

Kettlewell-Askrigg

Then we are off again, into what is to become an eternal drizzle. Between CP1 and CP2 is the highest point of the route, and also the segment where darkness will fall. I therefore try to move in a way that is not daft, but that maximises the use of the light. My aim is to get off the hilly section before darkness completely eats the sky. However, I am severely delayed near Cray, for the simple reason that I stop to gape in wonder at the waterfall gracefully cascading down the west flank of Buckden Pike. I am then delayed again when I stop to scoff some jelly babies at the nearby vehicle point. Shortly afterwards, I make a navigation error. By the time I am up on Stake Moss, darkness is stretching its long, ceaseless fingers across the Dales. I make good progress, nonetheless, arching around the sharp stubble of Addlebrough and down towards Askrigg. Here, I am left despairing for the first, but not the last, time about the mud. I get the navigation wrong again, more than once, which means my headtorch is soon on. The little dog leg east of Askrigg and then back annoys me. But finally, CP2 is within reach. 

Coming into Askrigg, I do my best to scare the locals. Peering around the main road, my headtorch alights upon a child sitting in a car on a driveway, who looks at me with a mixture of terror and shock. A small, inexplicably delusional part of my brain wonders if this is the CP. It very obviously isn’t, but I’m so desperate to find it this part of my brain tricks the rest of it into thinking it might be true, just for a moment. My headtorch therefore stays trained on the child a second too long, causing a considerable enhancement to the terrorised and shocked look. Thankfully – I think – her mother comes out the house at this point, having evidently told her daughter to get in the car while she locks up. She understands – I think – my confusion, and directs me towards the village hall. I apologise profusely, so profusely that in the end the situation punctures and we both laugh. I carry on towards the CP, utterly embarrassed and wondering if I’ll be disqualified or even banned from the Yorkshire Dales entirely. 

CP2 cheers me up. I am greeted by a border collie who spends the next 15 minutes staring expectantly at the mountain of cheese, bread, and pizza on my plate. I tell the border collie’s human that I too have a border collie for a companion, and their human replies that this marks me as a soft touch, something border collies know to recognise. The attention of the wonderful CP volunteers and my new collie friend lift my spirits. I slurp a cup of tea and then return to my kit. My watch has been charging for a good 20 minutes, and I pop another layer on, grab my gloves off the radiator, stock up on food, and grab my powerful handheld torch – a largely futile innovation intended to help me find stiles and lines in the dark, prompted by something PS said a couple of weeks prior.  

Askrigg-Winton

CP2 done, and it’s out into the cold, wet, and dark. I move slowly, my feet squelching and breath steaming. Rain flashes across my vision like greyscale Matrix code. It’s measured, careful movement at this point, and it continues uneventfully until we reach the climb to the final high point of the route. Almost out of a shared, quiet fear, a few of us gravitate together for this climb, trudging noiselessly upwards, around the western edges of Lunds Fell as if we are bison wary of wolves. At the top, starting to feel a smidge cold in my hands and legs in the endless drizzle, but convinced I’m okay, I decide to push on to warm up and get off the higher ground as quickly as possible. This is effective at warming me up, but in hindsight, probably hastened the decline of my legs (a decline that was coming anyway, to be fair). 

Later, as I move through Kirkby Stephen, the decline accelerates like a skier starting a black run. My mind also starts to slip. The yawns begin, and I find myself stumbling along, basically unable to run for more than a minute or so. For the first and only time, I check my last resort third option for seeing where I am, the event live tracking on my phone, to see how far it is to CP3. Not far. I wander into Winton and through the doors of CP3, knackered. Immediately, I am offered tea, soup, pizza, and a seat. My gloves and waterproof come off, and I check my penultimate layer, the North Face fleece, for moisture. It’s perhaps a touch damp in a couple of spots, but apart from that, the Montane – all praise their craft – waterproof has kept me dry. The rest of the CP passes in a haze of tea, pizza, and two cheese sandwiches. I stuff my pockets with Soreen, change my headtorch batteries, charge my watch, and put on my Montane Fireball over my North Face fleece. The waterproof goes back on over the top. Hood up, one last push. 

Winton-Appleby

I leave the CP with a fellow adventurer. I realise later that we’ve been swapping places since before Kettlewell, and in an unspoken pact, we move together in determined, steely silence. As the miles begin to crawl by, we chat football, running, and help each other (sometimes unproductively) with the navigation. Irony bites not long after, when I ask him if he fancies a little jog. Go on without me, he says valiantly, commenting that I’m obviously feeling stronger and should push on. Not 2 minutes later, my legs commit high treason, and I can no longer hold his heels. He marches into the distance, rightly practicing what he has preached, and for a while I pass the time by focusing on the flashing red light on the back of his headtorch. Pretty soon, it’s gone entirely. 

Those last 7 miles or so are torturous. My feet are suddenly throbbing, my joints are wooden, and my muscles are starting to fade to nothing. I play a game with myself: I am only allowed to check how long I have to go at half past the hour, which is also how I will remind myself to eat. Each time, I will guess the remaining distance. 0630 passes, I eat, I guess, 0730 passes, I eat, I guess, the sun rises, 0830 passes, I eat, I guess. I guess correctly zero times. The final stretch along the river into Appleby is an agonising cesspit of mud, tree roots, and sharp, hideous climbs. But eventually, I am staggering into Appleby and down the hill towards the finish point. A beautiful, caring soul in a blue hi-viz is stood there, beaming at me like I am the messiah, dragging me onwards with his gaze. I stride past him and touch the market cross. Done, just over 24 hours after starting. 

The aftermath

Post-race is a bit of a farce. I sit on the floor of the finish line HQ, trying to take my shoes off for so long that a fellow adventurer, long finished and now heading home, asks me if I need some help, with some concern. ‘It’s too late for that’, I try to joke, eliciting an awkward laugh. Later, prior to eating some of NAV4’s legendary carrot cake, I am sitting on the floor in a toilet cubicle trying to get changed. My leggings peel off, distributing 24 hours of mud across the floor. My socks do the same, and I examine my feet. Two chunky blisters in identical places on the inside of my little toes, and soles that are the colour and texture of a jellyfish that’s been washed up on a beach. A sinister part of me momentarily considers abandoning the mud now coating the toilet floor, but the good side prevails. I ask for a mop and a dustpan and brush, and so it comes to pass that my LAW75 adventure ends with me on my hands and knees, cleaning a toilet floor. Soon after it’s the long train home, and return to the North East, to my border collie, Dexter. 

So, what did I learn? There is no point in doing these things, if not to learn something about yourself. Well, I learned I can move for 24 hours without crying, collapsing, crashing (fully), or quitting. That’s something, and despite a fair few yawns I didn’t feel the tsunami of tiredness that I’d been warned about. 

I learned about kit and layering: mostly confirmation that my approach is sound, keeping me both warm and dry for the full adventure. The energy organising my layers, electrics, and food the week before was also well expended, minimising my faff time and maximising my eating time at the CPs.

I learned about feet. My feet coped okay, but in hindsight, I should have changed socks at CP3 and taken the chance to let my feet dry and air. Although, my little toes were already blistered by this point, and if I’d have changed socks, I might have popped them with the safety pin and disinfectant I carry for this explicit purpose – something that in the end wasn’t necessary. But either way, the searing pain in my feet I experienced in the last 14 miles would no doubt have been reduced if I’d have taken a bit more time to give them a proper breather. 

I learned about food. Mercifully, I learned I can still eat anything on this kind of adventure and not experience stomach issues. But it didn’t go perfect. Coming into CP1, I was hungry, which you should never be. Despite leaving each one feeling full, I should have eaten more at all three CPs. I didn’t have enough variety of things with me on my feet, which meant eating – especially after CP3 – was pretty laboured. Worst of all, I forgot all about the zip bag of chocolate pistachio truffle eggs and white chocolate Toblerone triangles in the bottom of my drop bag until after I’d finished. A few of them would have been ideal fuel in the latter stages, when chewing Soreen was becoming difficult even for this Soreen ambassador. 

I learned about resilience. Walking those last 14 miles or so was hard. My feet groaned, my joints complained, my muscles mutinied. But I remembered some perhaps unexpectedly sage advice from two friends: PS’s adage of ‘you’ve just got to get it done’, which I repeated to myself internally and out loud more times than I could count, and AT’s slogan of ‘the Metro is for quitters’, which kept me smiling sardonically – there’s no Metro out here, after all, and if there was it wouldn’t turn up.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, I think I learned this distance might not be for me. I might change my mind about that, but the last 15 miles or so crossed the boundary from adventure to misery. When I reached Appleby, I felt no elation, no rush, no relief, only muted, suppressed sorrow. It was underwhelming in a very unanticipated, overwhelming way. Now I’ve got a bit of distance from it, I can appreciate the resilience and the achievement, but I’m not sure I’m keen to replicate how I felt for those 15 miles ever again. In other words, it might be time to go back to the 50k distance I love.

Having said that, with better fuelling, better foot care, and now some experience, it might not be like that next time, right? I guess we’ll find out soon. Next up is the Fellsman. As all researchers know, a sample of 1 is a poor number on which to base such a definitive conclusion, so more data is required. Maybe in April, I’ll learn that a sandwich at Grassington can be the difference between success and real success. Either way, there’s only one way to find out. 

Shout outs

If you’re still reading, you’re probably getting bored by now, so let me end with a thanks and shout out to the NAV4 team. You’re all mint and I appreciate you. For just how mint they are, I sent them some feedback, which they have published here. Read it and sign up to their events: you won’t regret it. 

Shout out to my fellow adventurers for the comradeship and shared suffering, and to DVRC – especially those who joined me on my last long run before doing this – for the wise advice. Finally, shout out to G and Dexter, as always, for putting up with this nonsense and for tolerating yet another itch temporarily scratched. 

The Lindisfarne Half Marathon 2025

melaniearmstrong79

By Kirsty Robson

Race Report: Lindisfarne Half Marathon 2025 organised by Fylde Coast Runners

Date: Sunday, August 3rd

Route: Spittal to Holy Island, Northumberland

Distance: 13.1 miles

Weather: An unexpectedly hot, sunny afternoon – a scorcher!

This year’s Lindisfarne Half Marathon was one to remember! Returning to the iconic Holy Island course for the second year running, I was thrilled to knock three minutes off last year’s time – but more importantly, I ran it in a much better head space. Those who know me well will understand just how much revisiting this run meant to me.

Even more special was sharing the day with Rachael, who absolutely smashed it – and seeing her cross the finish line with that unmistakable glow of achievement made the day all the more meaningful.

Race Highlights:

Running along the breathtaking causeway under a blazing blue sky.

The unbeatable support from volunteers and locals handing out water (lifesavers!).

Finishing strong in the heat (well, if you discount running in slow motion up a sand topped path and a rocky climb up to the Lookout Tower).

A “Run the Raid” heavy piece of bling.🏅

Sharing the experience with Rachael – such a proud moment.

Knowing we could kick off our flip flops and drink Prosecco all day long for the rest of the holiday!!

The unexpected sunshine turned the race into more of a challenge than anticipated – especially with little shade out on the causeway – but the atmosphere, scenery, and sheer determination of every runner made it unforgettable.

We’re already eyeing up 2026 – because once you’ve run Holy Island, it’s hard not to come back. Who fancies joining us?

Until next time – happy running, stay hydrated, and here’s to the next challenge!

Club crack with Chris…

melaniearmstrong79
Chris Morris gives a run down of his highlights this summer as part of Derwent Valley Running Club

Let’s start with the Pie’n’Peas run
This race saw a tremendous participation from DVRC – there was approx. 35 of us turned up at the start line! I also thought the Pie (‘n’Peas) were remarkably appetizing compared to previous years (although nowhere near the quality of the Pitman’s Pies on offer at the Consett Relays – which reminds me – apologies once again to Charlotte & Alex for dragging ‘our’ team’s times down due to my slowness!). I was also extremely proud to see that we were the last Running Club to leave The Adam & Eve Pub after enjoying post race refreshments & rehydration!

Date of Race: Wed 02/07/25
Beat previous best time by: ~2 mins, 20s or so

The Chevy

Surprisingly, our 1st recce took place with relatively few incidents & therefore for a 2nd recce we were confident & had a tentative plan to do 15 miles of the total 20 mile course. However some bright spark then had the idea that if we were going to do 15 miles, we may as well do the full 20 mile course.

Unfortunately, it then transpired that we planned this recce on what appeared to be the hottest day of the year – but no worry – we all had brought ‘sufficient’ additional fluids. So we set off at approx. 9am from Wooler on a gorgeous, warm morning with a plan – that due to taking our time, eating sandwiches en route, taking plenty of photos, etc – we may be out for approx 7 hours .

By the time we got to the top of Cheviot…… we’d been out maybe 4 hours in the scorching sun, with zero shade on the entire route & were starting to feel a trifle nervous regarding getting back without severe sun burn / sunstroke. Down the side of Cheviot we avoided the snakes that were trying to hide from the oppressive sun & we then tried to refuel whilst climbing Hedgehope.

Halfway up Hedgehope, Sue was trying to eat her sandwiches when I heard her start to cough & splutter & when I turned around to look she was spitting her food everywhere whilst laughing uncontrollably – she’d noticed that it had taken us 57 mins to do the last mile! Perhaps our target of 7 hours out’n’back was a tad optimistic?

Down Hedgehope & up / through the craggs & we had to use the last of our (previously) ‘sufficient’ (?) fluids. Down to Carey Burn & we had to decide whether to try to continue to Wooler with zero fluids (unlikely to be successful) or take our chance with dysentery (or worse – if that’s possible!) & fill our flasks with water out of the burn. We chose the latter – & to date as far as I’m aware we’re all in perfect(-ish) health – so no worries there! A slow slog back to Wooler & when we got back to the car the temperature of the car which was parked in the shade was still at 27°C & we’d been out for a total of 9 hours. Thankfully however we had all returned safely & we then purchased what felt like Wooler Co-Op’s entire stock of cold drinks – a treat for us all paid by Ted.

So onto the race itself with a healthy contingent from DVRC – & even though I’d done The Chevy ‘Race’ a couple of times before (albeit v slowly) & had done several recces in the past – the trials & tribulations of the 2nd recce described above really lowered my confidence & I had an expectation to be timed out by CP1 or maybe CP2 at best. However this didn’t happen, although my confidence did take a further knock during the slow, steep, slog up Cheviot when a young lad on a mountain bike (non electric version) breezed past me & then stopped further up for a picnic. However I soldiered on, managed to beat the cut-off timings at all remaining CP’s & successfully made it back to Wooler. Was lovely to see Paul Stephenson just after Hedgehope who had entered the ‘walking’ version of the race – although it depressed me severely to see that his ‘walking’ speed was faster than my ‘running’!

P.S. No lambs were inconvenienced (this year) in the running of these recce’s / races.

Well – it wouldn’t be a discussion about The Chevy without this photo would it (IYKYK)?

Date of Race: Sat 05/07/25

Beat previous best time by: ~10 mins 

Lakeland 50
I did a couple of recce’s for this race – the normal one from Pooley Bridge & up Fusedale utilizing (as usual) the facilities of Natasha’s Mam’s static caravan / lodge & the next one on probably the 2nd hottest day of the year (can you see a theme developing here?).

The plan was (as usual) head over to Coniston and get the trusty Bus 505 from Coniston to Ambleside (after our now Annual ‘DVRC pretending to get run over by the bus’ Photo) & then ‘run’ back to Coniston.

Plan was that 5 of us would head over to Coniston in the car to meet Danielle at Coniston (who’d camped overnight in The Lakes) & we would then meet Fran at Ambleside (who’d travelled over to The Lakes separately). Leaving early in the morning from Rowlands Gill we’d arranged plenty of time for the journey on a Friday morning & therefore imagine our surprise when it took us approx. 30 mins to get through Swalwell Roundabout! Time was already against us! The rest of the journey was a complete blur whilst our chauffeur for the day (ie moi) tried to hide his stress & pressure whilst putting his foot down to ensure that we arrived in time to meet the bus in Coniston (& Danielle….. & then Fran). We made it with approx. 3 mins to spare before we had to hot-foot it onto the bus – so we just had to buy the quickest possible car park ticket & hope we hadn’t received a parking ticket on our return. Once on the bus we could relax – we now just had to meet Fran at Ambleside & then the small matter of running 15 miles & approx. 4,000 ft elevation back to Coniston – in ~30°C temperatures!  

As usual the scenery in the Lakes was absolutely stunning – we could see for miles due to the excellent weather & (I think for the first time) could see Morecambe Bay in the far distance as we headed back down from the fells into Coniston village. Due to the high temperatures (which I assume explains Alan’s choice of French Foreign Legion Headgear) there were a few hiccups along the way due to several of us over heating but nothing life threatening – & we were able to take full advantage of the honesty fridge just before Tilberthwaite by clearing out (but note – paying for!) the stocks of cold drinks & ice lollies! The refreshing cider in The Crown Inn back in Coniston was almost worth the journey from Ambleside that we had just ‘enjoyed’! I was overjoyed to realise that my car wasn’t clamped due to overstaying our car park ticket – although the rest didn’t seem as bothered / interested as me.

Onto race weekend itself & I think approx. a dozen of us from DVRC headed over. After waving off the DVRC LL100 contingent at 6pm Friday, those of us that were doing the 50 version prepared ourselves for our start on Sat morning. My hydration strategy / plan was to top up with water my hydration pack at each CP & then adding SiS Electrolyte powder also at each CP to keep me going. However this plan went a bit oblong approx. 400m after the start when my hydration pack developed a leak resulting in SiS electrolyte dilute mix pouring down my bum & legs. My fellow race competitors helpfully pointed this out but once I’d heard ‘you’ve got a leak mate’ for the 93rd time it started to get a bit tedious. So I was left with approx. 49.5 miles to go with only a solid cup to be used at CP’s for pasta, soup, etc & a small 250ml flexible flask that could be used for my fluids. I was a bit concerned – but at each CP I managed to gorge on water / juice & filled up the small flask with flat cola to keep me going until the next CP – & this seemed to work relatively successfully. Weather in the main was ideal (from what I can remember) & it was an absolute bonus at most CP’s seeing fellow DVRC Competitors (naturally they were leaving as I was arriving!) giving each other a cheery wave & a small comment of motivation.

By the time I arrived in Ambleside it had just gotten dark & it was lovely to see a lady we run with on a Tuesday night had interrupted her family holiday in Windermere to come along & cheer me through the town – thanks Nicola! For the last few miles I latched onto a group of strangers & we all started an A-Z quiz to keep us going: music, movies, etc that sort of thing. We ended up with questions about Countries Capital Cities, starting with Australia, moving onto Brazil, etc. When we got to K I volunteered that Almaty was the capital of Kazakhstan – upon which it transpired that no-one had heard of Kazakhstan never mind Almaty & they obviously thought I was some sort of smart ar5e so they stopped talking to me. (& apparently it isn’t any more – according to Google it’s now a City called Astana so that goes to show how much I know). Undeterred by my new friends non-communication I successfully arrived in Coniston having completed 50 miles of running – but obviously also a lot of walking too!

Date of Race: 26-27/07/25
Beat previous best time by: ~50 mins or so

Watergate Park 5k
The major advantages of this race are:
A) It’s on our doorstep; &
B) It’s only about 14 quid for a buffet & a t-shirt
…. so as a consequence once again there was a good turn out from DVRC (upwards of 20 or so contestants plus a couple of support crew taking photo’s, etc. Once again, like usual, it was like herding cats getting everyone to the pre-determined location for the pre-race photo. A 3rd advantage of this race is that we see someone we run with on a Tuesday being the Tail Runner. His first task is trying (& failing) to keep up with the kids race where we see him crossing the finish line a distant last following the kids home, looking absolutely paggered. It’s absolutely hilarious to see – & he’s then given approx. 5 mins recovery time before he has to set off again following the adults around the course. As you would expect Tail Running the adults race is significantly slower than the kids. Background is that we think he volunteered for this task approx. 15 years ago & as usual with these things once you’ve volunteered for something you then own the task for life – so well done Chris for continuing this annual tradition that’s what I say! From my perspective nothing particular to report on the race except that I think I may have ran my fastest 5k time ever!


Date of Race: 21/08/25
Beat previous best time by: 1 min 11s

Other highlights

Other highlights over the Summer obviously included DVRC 10th Birthday celebrations of course on 21/06/25 which consisted of a family fun run in the morning before the much more serious business of buffet + drinks in the evening. Thanks & well done to those that were involved for organizing!

So we now move onto Autumn & a new Season of Running. I’m planning for my first PB of the Season at Jedburgh Relays – mainly because I’ve not done this race before & therefore by default (providing the 4 of us finish!) there’ll be a PB on offer. That is how it works isn’t it?

Thanks to all those that have supported me during Wed night training sessions, Social Runs, Recces & during the various races – it’s been fun & your support is much appreciated.
Enjoy Autumn everyone & good luck with your running!!!

(*) PB’s from a very low base obviously!!!

Sue’s 150 miles in a week

melaniearmstrong79

By Susan Chambers

“I entered the 100 mile Bamburgh to Edinburgh Rat Race event without a second thought.. lovely ! However, when I updated my calendar for 2025 ….July suddenly looked busy. Then I realised – 19/07 was a 100 miler and a week later, oh yes……that other race I had a place for….so lucky me, a 50 miler round the Lakes (aka Lakeland 50) .

“I just thought “in for a penny in for a high mileage July” !

“I do enjoy longer distances and set about training, planning the picnic along the way as what works for some definitely doesn’t work for me. Training for races is not all about the miles to be covered, but trainers, socks and kit. Planning for the 100 was fun , honest! It’s not all long distance,s but back to back runs, finding places that you can get good elevation and simply playing out. Rat Race events are well organised and I have completed The Wall three times, so knew that check points would be well stocked and bit like a Sainsbury’s pop up shop. 

“July quickly approached and plans were made to travel on Friday to register and stay overnight to be fresh for a 7am start. Weather was scheduled to be wet at times … and the rest! Saturday morning arrived and it was great to see Kieran on the start line to have a friendly chat and share our race strategies: i.e. “see what happens eh?” The route was lovely, undulating, hugging the coast and every golf course in the land that Scotland has, so many! 

“Damp conditions soon became wet then a bit wetter, the coastal views soon disappeared into the clag and before lunch time it was wave after wave of poncho runners as a lovely lady from a shop handed them out, taking pity over the bedraggled runners. 

“The pit stops were really well stocked and there was something for everyone no matter what dietary requirements were needed – fab ! 

“St Abs head loomed and was very pretty even in the grim conditions, but what came after was boggy, slippery slidey climbs and the section that gently lead you into the night – what a Saturday night out out i had! I have memories of run/stagger repeat by a harbour wall behind a power station, I know how to party 🥳

“The 60 mile point was Dunbar and a sports hall pit stop where bodies stretched out amongst tables of pasta, drop bags and flakey, trenchy feet were getting stuck together Blue Peter style with sticky back tape. As I left here, the sun soon greeted me as did more golf courses and cliff edges . After a months rain in a day, Sunday was looking not too bad .. onwards to the last pit stop and a final push on towards Arthur’s seat in Hollywood Park.

“Signage was great , counting down the last few miles and whoah a million steps .. whose idea was that? There must have been 20 sets of steps leading to the park and finally the Royal Mile – yes final mile was up up up and dodging many tourists who I nearly harpooned with my poles! At last I was at the castle to turn abruptly right to head down to Princess Gardens and yes more steps but then a great run into the finish and 100 miles completed ! Now rest recover and oh yes a drink in a close by Wetherspoons. Jamie had popped up to support at Eyemouth then run the last few miles with me which was great . Once I sat down I felt rather faint so laid down under the table , when a staff member approached Jamie who explained I was fine, I had ran a 100 miles, she stated that’s not the usual reason for laying on the floor in a Weatherspoons!!!

“It was a great event, but that’s done bring on the Lakeland 50 .

“This race is well known and I have never done it before so thought just go, relax , enjoy it and that’s exactly what I did . 

“I stood on the start beside good friends with a plan to finish no matter what and enjoy the scenery oh and the picnic . 

“It’s a great route and the sun was out. Check point to check point was the plan, the day passed really quickly and I felt surprisingly good . 

“Each check point has a theme so it was lovely running into each one and every person helping was fab , highly recommend this event but perhaps not always after a 100! 

Again lots of familiar faces along the way and lovely chats always make a difference. The finish tent appeared, a cup of tea was poured and feet up, job completed with fab company. 

No matter what distance you stand on the start line of, just go for it, plan, prepare and pack a picnic – but enjoy the whole process as it’s always worth it … the following week I mainly slept and drank tea 😊

Northumberland Coastal Run

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Alan Vicarage shares his experience of the Northumberland Coastal Run – a 14 mile route which goes along the Northumberland coastal path from Beadnell Harbour to Alnmouth Estuary

“After 2 days of dot watching the 50/100 milers and trying not to think “maybe next year”, it was the turn of seven hardy souls who turned up to run the Northumberland Coastal Run – the first time for me in over 30 years I reckon.  It’s a well organised event so taking Jane up, getting parked, and getting on the transfer bus, then arriving at the start was an easy process.

“At the start, the baggage bus was handy – with Ted happy there was no security checks as he was the only one in the race carrying a bread knife in his baggage  ….. mmm? (more on that later!!)

“On the start line the weather was fine, with a threat of rain from time to time, but the tide was out giving us hard sand to run on, which was a bonus, but dry feet were just a pipe dream.

“So off we went – personally I set off too fast but really, I should have known better (Dunstanburgh Castle was in full use when I began my running career!) so I paid the price after Craster.

“If you can manage to look up from your feet, the views are tremendous, taking in three beaches, some trail and some road.  

“Everyone seemed to have a good run, with Charlotte flying past me and disappearing into the distance late in the run and at the finish we all cheered each other in.

“There seemed to be mixed reactions with regards to the tshirt depending on who you spoke to, but I was fine with mine I have to say.  

“So we tootled off to find a seat, whereupon Ted produced the said bread knife and amazingly Charlotte produced a whole loaf which she had baked the previous evening, with cheese, Prosecco, and Orange juice also supplied – all of it very nice and appreciated (It is Derwent Valley after all!!)

“Having replenished ourselves we slowly took our weary bones on the mile walk back to the car park, with Teds discomfort taking another turn as the male loos were out of order  … oh dear!!

“For anyone in the club who hasn’t ran this event before it’s really worth a go, but bear in mind it’s harder than your average half marathon due to the beaches etc.

“A huge thanks to my teammates and a massive well done to them all who, as ever, made it a great day out. Also a huge thanks to Alnwick Harriers for making it happen”.

Patterdale Beat the Bounds

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By David Williamson

On Saturday 5th July I set out to have a go at the Patterdale Beat the Bounds course.

This is something which has been going for 45+ years and is a route that follows the Patterdale Parish Boundary. It’s about 29 miles and advertised (more on that later) as 10,200 feet of ascent taking in “many famous Lakeland fells and landmarks including Raise, Helvellyn, Nethermost Pike, Dollywaggon Pike, Grisedale Tarn, Fairfield, Red Screes, Kirkstone Pass, High Street, Angle Tarn and Place Fell.” It’s also advertised that “on a good day there are stupendous views” (again, more on that later!)

My wife used to go to Patterdale School which is the start/finish and I wanted another decent run in the Lakes before taking on the Lakeland at the end of July, so it seemed a good chance to give it a go.

There’s a rolling start (between 5:30-9am) which you need to time right to ensure you reach the only Checkpoint at Kirkstone Pass between 11am-3pm. There’s a mix of people running and hiking the route, with options also available to do the first section (up to Kirkstone Pass), or the 2nd section from Kirkstone back to Patterdale, or even a shorter family route straight back down the valley from Kirkstone to Patterdale. So as we drove along from Glenridding to Patterdale at ~7am there was already a steady trickle of participants going the opposite direction as the first part of the route is to follow the Ullswater Way from Patterdale around to Glencoyne.

It’s pretty low key at the school for a kit check, pick up a marked map and to get your tracker fitted (whilst my wife Clare got a tour around the school from her old teacher) before heading off.
Despite a not very positive weather forecast things were looking okay as I climbed up towards Stybarrow Dodd with nice views back down Ullswater.
However after about the first 4 miles and towards the top of the first big climb, you hit the clouds and that was more or less that for the next 7+ hours until eventually dropping back down from Place Fell some 20+ miles later!

There were occasional movements of brief respite, but for the most part it was very limited visibility in the clouds, and alternating between ‘quite damp and light winds’ to ‘chucking it down and very windy’, which often made it difficult going as it was soggy underfoot and/or going over slippery rocks! Added to the ‘fun’ was that on occasion the route follows the strict parish boundary edge, which isn’t necessarily where the well trodden paths are.


The main relief was mostly at Kirkstone Pass where the Checkpoint was manned by Patterdale Church PCC and well stocked with homemade sausage rolls, cakes and a welcome cup of tea.
And then again at Angle Tarn where you could actually see more than 50 yards in front of you, and I picked up some company with someone in their late 50’s who’d run in the fells all their life and first did this round 30+ years ago so definitely had better navigation on some of the pathless boundaries. Which made the last climb up Place Fell before dropping back down towards the lake into what was at that level quite a warm and pleasant afternoon more enjoyable!

After drying out a little, some homemade soup and more tea and cakes than you needed back at the school, things were definitely improving.
It took me 9 hours 15 minutes and, likely due to my less than perfect navigation, my watch says I managed to rack up 11,358 feet of climbing to get round in what turned out to be 5th place from the 65 or so who set off.
All in all it was a bit of a shame the weather meant there were next to none of the “stupendous views” and at times it was more of a wet trudge/hike but it was an interesting route on some parts of the fells I’d never been on before. So would definitely recommend it and would like to try it again, when fingers crossed there might be some better weather in what is the middle of summer!

Anita Nott 2025

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By Sue Urwin

We all met in the Corner House to collect our race numbers and use the facilities. Not a drop of alcohol being purchased at this point by us athletes!

Then off we set to the start on Armstrong Bridge. Being called forward by the officials with five minutes to go, there was a sea of assorted club vests to behold, and the sound of happy chatter to be heard. We had one minute’s silence to remember Anita, who was a well loved Heaton Harrier.

There was a little breeze on the bridge, but perfect running conditions, so much better than the scorching temperatures of the previous year.

We were quickly sent on our way, firstly into Jesmond Dene, where we enjoyed the undulating terrain, woodland steps and a little dark tunnel. Although the Dene was challenging, this was nothing compared to the hill that was waiting for us in Heaton Park.

So over the bridge and into Heaton Park we went, hitting the hill almost immediately.

On and on it seemed to go, the effort made a little sweeter by the lovely supporters cheering us on along the way. I had only just started my hill climb, when, whoosh, the first runner passed on her way to the finish. It wasn’t long before she was followed by our lovely DVRC speedies. One thing about an out and back, is you see your club mates and get a shout from them to keep going up that hill.


Eventually, I made it to the top of said hill, and back down we went, retracing our steps.
I can’t lie, was lovely to see that bridge again, this time leading to the finish line. Such a buzz as always to finish a race, especially a fast one, (fast for me anyway)! Buzz was extended when offered chocolate from Heaton Harriers .

What was not to love? DVRC camaraderie, perfect running weather, chocolate, oh and a little run too.

Heaton Harriers, I will be back next year!

Here come the girls….

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DVRC members Charlotte Bowes, Claire Thompson and Sally Ann Greenwell, share their inspirational experiences of the Manchester Marathon….

First is Charlotte…

Nearly 3 years ago I started my running journey by turning up late (what a surprise!?) without a barcode to my first parkun in Chopwell. Fastforward to 27th April on a bright (and very early) morning I was getting ready to start my first Marathon!

I had not slept well the night before getting just 5 hours sleep, but I put on half a grimace to wish good morning to my fellow marathoners-to-be, who all seemed to be “morning people”. Armed with multiple cups of tea, a bagel and a banana we were ready to Uber our way to Old Trafford.

It was sunny and warm on arrival- I had hoped for more cloud and a dash of rain, but it wasn’t to be- shit. I had thankfully packed my hat and suncream, a godsend for the freckled folk. One long wait in a toilet queue and then I was in the holding area for Light Green Wave. I obviously needed another quick pee for prosperity. Men were queuing for the cubicles (there were bloody urinals)- my wave was starting to move to the start line so speed was of the essence. I decided to go for a nature pee with a friend and were followed by another female due to our ingenuity. We squatted in line behind the men’s urinals and agreed ‘eyes forward’, completed our business and legged it to the start.

The start-line was great! It was such a well organised race. Waves went off at the time they were meant to- which if you’re used to the GNR, you know that’s a big deal.

9.40am hit and we were off. I was ready for this. I’d been training since October for Brass Monkey half, then straight into Marathon training. I had a goal of sub-4hrs in my head. I’d told myself the day before I’d be disappointed with anything less…

The crowds were immense! The encouragement from spectators was 100% from the start. But that heat was something else. It was just there- hot and heavy with limited shade. 5K felt OK, 10K felt HARD- a blister was developing on my toe, 15K felt like shit. I’d kept my planned pace until 15K and I thought I need to set aside my goal and focus on finishing- the heat was too much for me and I’d already seen people fainting. I didn’t want that to be me. A shift in mentality and a slower pace got me through the next 5k. At the HM point I had clocked 1:53 I thought, right that’s OK, just keep going.

Although I carried my water, the water stations were amazing! Most of it was poured on my head just to try and keep cool. I walked through a couple of water stations just to reset myself a little. At 30K I knew there was just 12K left, and I’d done more than 30K in training. At 34K I knew this was my longest training run, just 8K left to go. By God that was a hard 8K! The crowds shouting my name and thinking about seeing my friends at the finish line kept me going. But it was a tough mental battle. Knowing that Sally-Ann and Claire would be at the end and have achieved this too was such a positive thought. Then at 38K someone shouted ‘Hi pee-buddy’- the stranger who I’d peed beside at the start had given me another little boost!

I crossed that finish line in 4:02:15. I was ecstatic. I still am. My first marathon done. And the best bit? Claire had just completed her first one too and Sally-Ann got a cracking PB. Sharing the experience was fantastic! It was a brilliant weekend away, and I got a tiny bit tiddly after! Fancy a road marathon? Do Manchester.

And Claire….

How I tend to enter a long race is normally by watching someone amazing from the club do it the year before and saying to myself, “I am doing that next year”. So, April 2024 I saw Chris Hewitson ace the Manchester Marathon and thought exactly that. Heard it was a flat, PB course, and a good starting point for a road marathon. I hadn’t long competed my first Ultra (Bridges to Boundaries), felt fighting fit and thought yes, lets do this next year. Fast forward to April 2025 and I am at the start line, the temperature is…hot. We are all being told to “Drink to thirst. Drink to thirst”. My wave is walking forward to the start, and I am off. 

My plan was a sub-2-hour, comfortable half and then give it all I’ve got in the second half. I started confident and I completed the first half in 1:59, however, it wasn’t “comfortable” due to the heat. I missed the first water station at 3 miles because I was on the left-hand side of the road and the waters were on the right and I couldn’t move over in time, so I panicked (not wanting to faint in the heat) but remained calm. I had no water on me and my plan was always to take from the stations, so I carried on until mile 6 and grabbed and downed 2 bottles of water, and continued to do this at all the other water stations. The heat was intense, but my mind was focused, and I remained positive the whole way round. I think having 3 Ultras in the bag has certainly helped with my mental positivity. The race was hard, but we all know mind over matter is a thing and this is what got me round. I hit a slight “wall” at 20 miles and my pace dropped. I knew my pipedream of a sub 4 hour was gone, but I felt very elated at the chance that a 4 hour 30 was within my grasp if I just carried on putting one foot in front of the other. The crowds were absolutely immense, the perfect mix of energy, my name was called to me all the way along that course, (even got complemented on my shorts a few times), and this created a new level of energy that no Voom bar could ever give. They pushed me all the way through, but especially that last 6 miles. When I heard the Manchester Batala band on the corner of the final stretch, I picked up my pace- (I always have a sprint finish in me whatever the race). And I raced up Oxford Road to the finish line knowing how proud I was of my achievement, finishing in 4 hours 15. 

The weekend was great and if anyone fancies a road marathon then Manchester is definitely a good one to start. I am so proud of Charlotte, Sally-Ann, (Dave and Zoe- not from the club), we all got round the course safely on such a hot day. For anyone who thinks they can’t, you CAN! You absolutely can. Some of my training runs created doubt but I stuck with it. So, if you have an iffy training run, please don’t be put off and keep going! Certain factors are always out of your control on a race day; lacing up those trainers makes you already a winner! 

And Sally Ann…..

For those of you who know me, know I’m neither a road or a fast runner, preferring the trails where my main goal is to finish and more importantly enjoy it. Yet somehow I ended up on the start line of Manchester. Why I hear you ask? For the chance of finally getting a sub 5 or even a sub 4.30! 

After months of training, I was ready to go…. wasn’t I? Standing at the start line with the pressure of a PB and the blazing sun off I went. From the off you could feel not only the heat, but the support from the crowd. Not wanting to get carried away I kept at my half marathon pace, making the half way point with a sub 4.30 still on. 17 miles still going strong although the heat at this point was unbearable a PB was still on what would it be? Kept pace until the 21 miles where I needed to slow down, running was getting harder and it certainly wasn’t enjoyable anymore, the amount of people collapsing around me was quite scary. So knowing a sub 5 was still achievable, I decided finishing safely was the most important thing. 

Crossing the finish line knowing what I had finally achieved was amazing. To find out everyone else had got round safe and sound and celebrating with them made the day. Would I do a road marathon again? Probably not but I still wonder if it was a cooler would I have got the 4.30? Who knows, I may even get into London next year!

Running a marathon is hard, the training is hard, trying to keep pace over a long distance is hard. But the sense of achievement and pride is unmeasurable and if I can do it anyone can.

A Tale of Two Marathons

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By Bex Hewitson

Two marathons, two cities, two weeks, two very, very different experiences. 

Chris and I entered the Zurich marathon after we’d had our hearts set on Rotterdam but missed the entry. Not long after, I found out I’d been successful in getting a “good for age” London marathon place. I knew I’d have serious FOMO if I didn’t do one of them so with encouragement from you guys who voted on my instagram poll, I did indeed go for it! 

After a 15 week training block I felt so ready to smash Zurich. The weather conditions were perfect, everything was planned, I was physically and mentally ready, and the flat course was made for realising PB dreams. With Pace-Pro set up on my watch aiming to beat my London 2024 time of 3hr 24min, I set off around the streets of Zurich a bit too quickly and had to have a word with myself to slow down as I wasn’t going to maintain that pace for the whole race. The route took us along the edge of Lake Zurich with the snow capped Alps in the background and the stunning view kept me distracted for a while. I followed my fueling strategy to the letter and felt strong all the way to 30km. Here the km markers had been put out wrong and I freaked out that my meticulous planning had gone awry. After a few kms they righted themselves and I relaxed again. We headed back towards the city and just as an added bit of torture, we passed the finish line on the other side of the road with 6km still to go. A bit more weaving around the streets of the city and it was back over Quaibruke for the 5th time and through to the finish. The crowds were brilliant in the main city and as well as seeing my support crew of Dave, Di, and Emily three times on the course, they were right there on the finish line to see me cross it in a time of 3hrs 17mins…smashing 7 minutes off my previous PB.

Once the heart rate had slowed down and some liquids were taken in, I was floating on the joy of my achievement in the finishing village; one look at Chris told me he did not feel the same! I had photos taken with the Union Jack flag, found my name on “the cube”, and rubbed Chris’ back while he threw up against a tree! The atmosphere at the finishing village was brilliant and we spent a happy few hours celebrating, taking it all in, and recovering with prosecco and beer! The training and planning had more than paid off. I felt strong and in control the whole way. My fitness and legs were my best friends and the wall didn’t so much as glance in my direction. 

Two weeks later however…

I stood in the Pink start area under the already hot sun, wondering what the hell I was doing. I’d enjoyed London so much last year and it was literally the highlight of my running career. I knew it had no chance of measuring up this year but little did I know just how much I was going to hate it! I told myself to be sensible and realistic with this race. I’d just smashed another marathon that I hadn’t fully recovered from, and it was extremely warm. I kept a steady pace where I felt comfortable(ish) until half way, just after I crossed Tower Bridge. It was around Limehouse that the wheels not only fell off,  but smashed to pieces and caught fire. I was overheating, tired, and struggling. The thought of how much longer I still had to go was daunting. As all us considerate runners know, you are supposed to throw your used water bottles clear of the course after a water station but several thousand of my London 2025 peers missed this memo and the inevitable ankle turn on a discarded water bottle happened to me at 30km. After a few seconds of panic and pain, I managed to run it off and continue. I saw Chris, Emily, Di and Dave at two spots around Canary Wharf and this boosted me for a short while. By this time the heat was really strong and as we ran through The City, the sun was bouncing off the glass buildings and made it feel like running through hell itself. I tried everything I could to keep cool. I took ice cubes and put them down the back of my sports bar, ran through the firemen’s hoses, and took water at every opportunity. Using every brain-fooling trick in the book, I managed to grind it out to complete the course in 3hrs 40mins…17mins slower than last year. To be honest, the fact I finished the marathon was an achievement in itself. The joy I’d felt crossing the same line a year earlier was nowhere to be seen. I felt absolutely wretched. I saw so many people succumb to the brutality of the heat and the last few miles were akin to a war zone with semi/unconscious bodies being rolled onto sheets of plastic and dragged off the course towards medical attention. My faithful support crew were there at the meeting area with hugs, full sugar coke, and then much later, prosecco. The train journey back to Newcastle that evening gave me the opportunity to catch up with fellow DVRC members Alex and John, and we shared stories of our mental battle with the event. 

It’s crazy how different these two events were for me, and in hindsight, doing two marathons in two weeks wasn’t a good idea. But I’d rather regret something I DID do, than something I didn’t. It’s taken me a month to process the trauma and write this article and I’m still suffering the physical effects of the day in my hips and ankles. I may return to marathon running next year…I did get a BQ time in Zurich after all! But for now I’m going to enjoy the local runs and races I can do over a shorter distance!