Three Peaks Challenge, June 2019

Three Peaks

Next weekend I’ll be taking on the Three Peaks Challenge with a group of thirteen friends. The challenge consists of climbing Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon, the highest mountains in Scotland, England and Wales, in 24 hours. We’re heading up on Friday 21st and returning Monday 24th June.

Five minutes of googling showed us that regardless of fitness and mountaineering experience, everyone seems to find this tough. Occasionally someone posts a link on our group chat to a story detailing how a group of ultramarathoners failed to complete all three summits, or how an experienced hiker recently perished on Ben Nevis.

There are several factors entirely out of our control which could jeopardise our success. The 24-hour time limit includes travelling time, so we’re subject to traffic conditions and the reliability of our minibus. We can’t choose the weather conditions. Even the most competent hikers get injured. These mountains can get busy – queues to the top of Snowdon are becoming very common. Little, unexpected things can happen – water containers leak, laces snap, someone comes down with food poisoning.

On top of this, we’re pretty fit (we’ve done several “training hikes” together, which I’m yet to post about but had great fun on) but the fact we’re such a big group could go against us. If just one of us gets injured on Ben Nevis or Scafell Pike, we all have to wait as we only have one minibus. Which may resemble a tin of damp, twitchy*, achy sardines as we attempt to sleep between summits, cuddling our gear and buzzing with adrenaline.

Adversity aside, I feel good about this. Maybe I’m naïve, optimistic and overenthusiastic about mountains, because I think it’ll be a lot of fun.

But that’s not the point. We’re taking on this silly, painfully difficult, potentially self-destructive challenge to raise money for an incredible cause – Friends of PICU, a charity which supports the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit at Southampton University Hospital.

*because of the adrenaline, not because Bertie has tourettes…

Nora’s Story and Our Cause

This whole crazy thing has been organised by my lovely friends Charley and David. In August last year, their baby daughter Eleanor was diagnosed suddenly with bronchiolitis. Her little lungs couldn’t cope and she was rushed to hospital. She was put on oxygen, but her condition deteriorated and she stopped breathing, turning blue and lifeless as Charley watched helplessly.

In Charley’s words, “the room filled with people and she was taken from me immediately receiving CPR and masked oxygen. They let me hold her tiny hand, then we’re on the move to theatre 2 floors up. I was allowed to stay with her whilst they worked on keeping her alive. They managed to keep her going long enough to put her onto a ventilator to breathe for her, this is how they would keep her until her lungs became strong enough to work on their own.”64222665_1207279716120758_2821219001466617856_n

“I remember every detail, every face and it seemed to last a lifetime. I then got the news that we would need to transfer her to the PICU in Southampton. I was terrified, I didn’t want to move her in case something happened. I didn’t want to leave her anywhere.”

The Paediatric Intensive Care Unit provides first class care and treatment to over 900 critically ill children from the South of England and Channel Islands every year.

Here’s Charley’s account of Eleanor’s experience at the unit:

 “PICU have their own ambulances and arrived so quickly. They introduced themselves, always talking to us and Eleanor and assured me I could be with her at all times. They transferred her onto a portable ventilator and we arrived in PICU that night. The staff were amazing and she had a nurse with her 24/7 who never left her side and allowed me to do the same. They provided a room across the corridor to stay in and encouraged us to go and rest but equally were happy for me to stay by her side, I couldn’t bear taking my eyes off her on the machines.”

“During our stay the nurses and doctors were exceptional, dedicated and kept us informed at all stages, they let me stay for everything including changing her tubes and letting me clean her. They took footprints and made birthday catds for family whose birthdays came and went. They made the hardest time in our lives that bit easier. Each baby and child admitted got their own handmade blanket and a Friends of PICU “Ellie” elephant to keep, which we still have to remember how lucky we are.”

“We were one of the lucky families that got to take our little girl home, many families whilst we were there did not get that chance but they were very respectful to those families and others by ensuring their privacy at all times. Eleanor had a gruelling few weeks ahead of her once awake, enduring feeding tubes and relearning how to drink again but finally her battle was over and we got to go home!”

“Without this service, of which we knew nothing about before this, we wouldn’t be telling the same story.”

Friends of PICU is the charity whose support keeps this unit running. It pays for vital equipment and services which are not otherwise funded, including specialist ambulances, beds, family accommodation, medical equipment, furniture and toys. Every child admitted will benefit from the work of this charity, and without its support many children would have missed out on lifesaving treatment.

So that’s why we’re doing the Three Peaks Challenge – to raise money for Friends of PICU. We are eternally grateful for every little donation, no matter how small, to this incredible cause.

If you’ve ever a) had children, b) known a child or c) been a child, please support Friends of PICU by clicking the link below and donating what you can. The benefits are twofold: it’ll help very sick children and their families, and alleviate our pain and suffering as we force our weary legs onwards and upwards (then back downwards).

Click here – Three Peaks Fundraising Page

More Three Peaks related posts to follow…

Thank you.

Naomi xxx

PS. Special thanks to Charley and Dave for organising, Riyad for offering to be our designated driver, and everyone else for the (anticipated) wonderful company!

 

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Charley leading the team up Snowdon on a training hike

Ultra Training Update: Week 1

It’s been almost a week since I signed up for an ultramarathon at 2am after an impromptu drinking session and for some reason I haven’t cancelled my booking. Friends have told me I should postpone it until another year to give myself enough time to train (alongside study and work), among them a personal trainer and an ex-marine.

 

Perhaps that’s why I’m keen to give it a go; being told I can’t do something triggers my resolve and makes me dig my heels in, absolutely determined to do (or at least attempt) whatever silly thing it is. So far it hasn’t proved fatal.

 

Anyway this week I started “training”. I’m reluctant to use that word as it seems too formal and serious, when really I’ve just been running a few times. I looked up 4-month 50-miler training plans, but a) they were aimed at seasoned marathoners, and b) I didn’t like them anyway. So instead I just ran. Maybe I’ll devise a written plan at some point, but for now I’ll focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not dying.

 

After last Saturday’s 13.1 miles, I ran 2.5 miles on Monday (with a friend, otherwise I would have gone further) followed by 10mins barefoot on the treadmill. I’m keen to train my body to run barefoot after reading Christopher McDougall’s Born to Run, but that’ll be another blog post. I did 7 miles on Tuesday followed by 12mins barefoot treadmill, 5 on Wednesday (with another friend) and 9 on Thursday. I probably shouldn’t have run Weds or Thurs because of the blisters on the balls of my feet – from the treadmill, although I’m reluctant to admit it – but I have an addictive personality and I was addicted.

 

Unfortunately yesterday and today I admitted that I should let my feet heal (and my legs rest, although they’re itching to run) before I make them worse, so no running. Somehow one blister has extended to between my big and second toe, where the flip flop strap goes, and has left a sore, red split in the skin. This is super annoying as you’ll rarely catch me in anything other than flip flops or barefoot from April to October. If it wasn’t for that I’d be running now. I hate resting.

 

So far I’ve found that the first couple of miles are easy, the next three-ish are the toughest, then it gets easier again. At the end of each run I thought I could happily carry on, but stopped because I had plans or felt I should go easy on my body to begin with. I’m the most impatient injured person ever to have existed. My breathing has been fine, I’ve had no joint pain and the initial calf soreness seemed to ease after going barefoot on the treadmill, stretching and using a foam roller. I’m being kind to myself by focusing on distance, not pace, and enjoying each run.

 

Blisters on the balls of feet are particularly irritating as plasters don’t do much, seeing as you put pressure on them every time you take a step. I’d never burst a blister running until Thursday’s 9-miler, when I was happily into mile 7 and all of a sudden it felt like my left foot landed on one of those washing machine liquitab things. I didn’t even realise that blister was still there until then, but it was horrible. Would not recommend.

 

We’re coming to the end of a mini heatwave which started on Wednesday, so the 5 and 9-milers were  balmy. The meadows, fields and streams I stumbled through on Thursday’s run were picture-postcard lovely, but I felt like I attracted, inhaled and swallowed enough flies to hit my protein target for at least the next week. At one point I tried and failed to extract one from my eye mid-run, only to come across it later as I attempted to apply mascara on my way to the pub.

 

Another thing I noticed on that run was that when I went exploring and ended up on rocky, rooty, hard mud-ridged narrow paths, it got easier and I got quicker. I was amazed that I’d been struggling a moment before on the smooth road, yet I hit more technical terrain and ran better. I suppose that goes to show how significant the mental aspect of running is – despite considering myself relatively resilient and self-aware, I was sub-consciously focusing on my tired legs until I was forced to concentrate on my footing in order to not break a leg.

 

So that’s where I am with four months to go. I’m hoping to get a run in tomorrow, foot-dependent. In other news, I finished Born to Run and started Eat & Run by Scott Jurek, an ultramarathon legend who featured in the former book, I’ve got a couple more blog posts planned (very loosely, in my head), and today I swam in a cold, dirty river. Uni is boring and I’m still poor.

 

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