Dawe - Adventures in mind - a personal obsession with the mountains

Contents

Foreword

Running up on the Chevin on a winters night in the wind and drizzle you dont expect to meet many people. Maybe the odd dog walker, or an occasional clandestine mountain biker, but its not often you actually meet another runner. On one such evening, jogging along the track below Chevin Buttress, I passed a fellow shady figure out running in the dark. We half crossed, muttering a greeting, but then both stopped mid-stride as we recognised one another it was Heather.

Linking up to run together for a few minutes, I asked her what shed been up to recently. Oh, you know Ive been getting out a bit. Now, Heather is good because she trains hard ridiculously hard at times, with a level of self discipline that I can only dream of so I knew that this really meant: Ive been getting out in the dark and rain every night for months, grinding out a vast number of miles. A bit.

In the time Ive known her, shes gone from being a rebellious young student to an accomplished rock climber; a clueless rookie to an elite mountain marathoner and from a beer-bike owner to winner of the Three Peaks Cyclo-Cross race. This is not normal.

Having the determination to set yourself such big physical goals and then going about achieving them repeatedly requires a complex mix of motivations some of them almost as extreme as the physical challenges themselves. A degree of self-motivation bordering on obsession is pretty much mandatory and having something like that running around inside your head all the time can be a difficult thing to manage and control, let alone understand.

Yet Heather manages these motivations and emotions as skillfully as she runs and races, while still holding down a busy job running a large team and looking after a young daughter.

Driving hundreds of miles on a Friday night, sleeping in the back of a car, getting up before dawn, running/skiing/riding up and down mountains for several hours, crossing the finish line exhausted, jumping straight into the car to drive home and then being jumped on by small children all afternoon. I know the routine well. Shes very lucky to have such a loving and supportive partner as Aidan in this respect. Juggling work, family life and play time is a never-ending challenge.

Starting out as a climber, Heather ran her first mountain marathon in 1996, completing the C course on the KIMM in the Galloway Hills with Ellen Wolfenden. In typical climber style, neither of them really knew what they were doing with a map and compass so they just stumbled around in the mist and completed the course anyway, with a good deal of blisters and swearing.

Many other races and navigational errors followed, but gradually an ambition was born: complete the OMM Elite course. En-route there were many setbacks and moments of questioning and doubt, but, rather than give in, Heather just stepped back a little and planned another training strategy to improve and overcome. It took eleven years from failing to find the first control on successive races, to mastering compass bearings in the Brecon Beacons, to completing the LAMM Elite on Mull and finally the OMM Elite course three times, winning both mixed and female pair categories.

This book follows one persons journey, told through a life among mountains a longing to escape from the mundane grind of jobs and everyday life, to the freedom of the natural world.

Along the way, Heather questions why she does it: the training, the pain, the failure and eventually the success. Through the pages of Adventures in Mind Ive been inspired to ask many of my own questions, but most of all Ive been inspired to get out my trainers, dust off the bike and just get out and do it and you cant ask for better inspiration than that.

Al Powell
Otley, April 2013

Prologue

The last descent off Pen-y-ghent and I cant let myself think its in the bag. Anything could happen, take it easy, take no risks. Just get to the finish and win. The Three Peaks Cyclo-Cross. An amazing race in which you get to carry your bike up three big hills in Gods own county of Yorkshire. My favourite race and I was hoping for seventh time lucky. I had been second three times and to be honest I was getting a bit fed up. I really wanted to win and was starting to think it would never happen. I trained harder, and tried to lose the negative feelings. On race day I went for it and won, taking twelve minutes off my previous best.

It felt good, great even. A beautiful day out in a stunning place that all came together; I finally got my name on the trophy. So, whats next? Ill line up again next September. Ill train hard again, try and win, get a faster time. Will it be the same as last time? Have I succeeded enough or is it that winning isnt everything?

The challenge and anticipation that pushes me to try harder.

The obsessive urge to achieve. Its not all about winning. Why do I do it?

The Grand Raid Cristalp, an amazing race in the Swiss Alps. Great climbs, descents, singletrack and a perverse last climb up to the Pas de Lona, shouldering your bike up a long scree ascent at just under 3000 metres. If the altitude doesnt take your breath, the scenery will. It is truly beautiful.

Starting the last and longest climb. I knew it was bad when my jaw started to cramp. When my fingers went too I felt like crying, my whole body was aching. The temptation to retire, to turn around and roll back down to the valley was so very strong. This wasnt the first time I had done this race. I had finished it before so what did I have to prove? Maybe, if I slowed right down, I could get timed out?

I carried on and finished. Over an hour slower than my fastest time but my best because I did not stop.

The fear of failure. A monkey on my back, whispering sweet nothings it doesnt matter, just forget it, its only a bike ride after all. I think its a bit more than that. We all have our demons, dont we? Why dont I listen, why cant I stop?

The Fred Whitton Challenge. Cycling all the road passes in the Lake District in one go in an obvious, beautiful route. Lining up at the start with my confident friend, brimming with fitness and bravado. He said he can do it in under six and a half and me in under seven.

I smiled and shook my head. Maybe for him, but for me? No, it wont go.

I had a good ride. Kirkstone, Honister, Newlands, Whinlatter, Cold Fell all came and went. I even felt good riding up the Hardknott. It was only on top of Wrynose when I looked at my watch and realised he was right, it could go. Seven hours and one minute.

Belief. When you lose it youre finished.

It happened eight years ago but I still jump awake at night, feeling the car as it hits me. Turning right onto the trail from a fast road; he was driving too fast and I dont know what was going on in my head. I went over the top of the car and landed on the tarmac. I remember lying there, no pain at first. My first thought? Nothing is more important now than living. Job, house, bike, material shit, none of it matters. I checked I could still wiggle my toes, then lay back and waited for the ambulance. Two days before Christmas, I spent the big day on my bed, concussed and in pain. By New Year I could just about walk. I got on the turbo trainer full of resolution. I wanted to really live.