FGR - A cautionary Tale.
Dave Sargent (Eden Runners, Penrith)
When we read of other people’s adventures going wrong or too near for comfort, it is easy to judge decisions as reckless or foolhardy. When we are in the middle of the adventure ourselves it’s perhaps another matter.
I completed a ‘successful’ Frog Graham round on 10th August 2023, a little late in the season for maximum daylight time for a slow plodder who likes an adventure, but had not trained or prepared properly. More of that later.
An article about the FGR in The Fellrunner immediately grabbed my attention. After a moderately successful season fellrunning as new v.50 in 2013 I had struggled with recurrent and various injuries. I started mixing the training more with cycling and even some swimming but, always needing something to aim for, I tried my hand at a few triathlons with hill / fell / trail running. Fun though they were (and my swimming was shocking!) the busy commercial organisation of the events didn’t appeal that much, nor focussing on one big event only to have it shortened or reduced because of poor weather on the hills. Added to that, most triathlons events are on Sundays which, being a local parish priest, does not make it easy to get much race experience. My instinct is for something low-key, physically challenging, but with a bit of unknown about it.
Drawn more to these long-day adventures, solo or just a few pals and going when the weather looks good for it, the FGR became my focus.
Injury scuppered any serious running on the fells, so my first foray in the direction of an FGR was my own ‘CycloFrog’ version in 2020. The mountain bike ride from Moot Hall around the Back-O-Skiddaw was great fun. Long-suffering wife Anne (more of that later too) met me at the road / swim junctions with car ready to take the bike round to next section. The swim across Bassenthwaite was good (though exiting in wrong place) followed by road cycle over Whinlatter with my running pal and BGR partner Derek Hurton. Swim across
Crummockwater (with rinsed out wetsuit) and a walk / jog around the lake to the Buttermere swim followed by ride over Honister and round to the start of the Derwentwater swim. Slow, but uneventful progress (more of that later) across the long swim before a final easy ride back to Keswick. A good day and certainly whetted the appetite for a proper attempt once injuries allowed.
Over the next year or so (and starting from a very low threshold) I concentrated on improving my swimming endurance, if not my technique. Let’s just say that I got better at swimming badly! My technique was rubbish, but I could keep going for longer. A swim technique video session was shocking! Living close to Ullswater meant I could get used to reasonably long swims in the lake, though never with any serious training regime.
Meanwhile, on the fells, recurrent injury prevented downhill running, but big, long days doing the Lakeland Birketts at a strong pace was building my hill strength and endurance without pushing the speed. I spent some good time recceing the route, especially Whilatter and the Mellbreak parts and making sure I was familiar with most of the key junctions, or so I thought!
2023 was to be the year for an attempt.
I was fortunate to be given a three-month sabbatical from June – end of August 2023. The lovely spell of hot weather in May and June led to good water temperatures in the lakes, but I was far from fit for a long day.
By the time my fitness was better, the weather had changed back to colder, wet and grey with lots of fresh water bringing the lake temperatures down again. I struggle with the cold, so a full wet-suit was clearly going to be needed for some of the route. The logistics of carrying swim and hill kit should have been better rehearsed; this would have avoided much faffing about and time gradually stretching out.
I spent June and July building my fitness with a series of longer challenges: The Ullswater Way, the George Fisher Tea Round (with some FGR route overlaps), some big Birkett hill days and the Lakes 3000s with biking in-between. I had a week or so early August to have a go.
August 10th 2023 it was. The plan was for a solo, supported round. I hoped to carry all the stuff I needed for each hill and swim section, but to make use of food and fresh clothes change support at the road crossings.
Stopping off at a pal’s flat in Keswick the night before I started at 5 a.m. This was the first mistake! I am happy on the fells in the dark and should have gone an hour or 2 earlier and reached the first swim just as it was getting light. Anne (meeting me at Dodd Wood) is a nurse and finished her shift late the night before, so I was reluctant to ask her to meet me any earlier. Good speed up and off Skiddaw and, after a faffing around change into wet suit (much faffing about repeated each time!) the swim across Bassenthwite was good. A strong, steady pace over the Whinlatter section (very pleased to have got the route sussed out) and happily over the tops to Crummockwater. I was eating and drinking well and moving steadily, if not very fast.
Lots of people and no car parking option for Anne at Crummockwater meant my food and change of wetsuit was not to hand. It was a longer-than-hoped-for rest while things were ferried to me, but the time was spent enjoying the chat with supporter of a Tadpole Round happening at the same time. They had kayaks to safeguard the swimmers – very wise! The break gave me the opportunity to look across to the beast of Mellbreak and contemplate the ascent line!
A gorgeous swim, but drawn out faffing at the far side before heading off up a good line to the (correct) top of Mellbreak from where I added a too-close-not-to-do Birkett and a thorough rinsing of the wetsuit in Blackbeck. I didn’t get a great line across the fell to the Scale Beck crossing but cracked on pretty well to Red Pike and High Stile. Over enthusiastic and not concentrating, I took the wrong line off, ignored the nagging feeling I was off-route until I’d gone too far towards Bleaberry Tarn. A contouring trod saved the day, but it was a frustrating mistake. I had quite a long rest before the short Buttermere swim and the tough direct slog up to Robinson. Mostly walking now, the familiar line over Dale Head to Catbells was hard work, but in gorgeous early evening sunlight. Beautiful, but with a nagging anxiety over remaining daylight.
By the time I started the swim the light was failing and although the islands were well silhouetted so I could see where I was heading, it was too dark for Anne (now on the far side) to see me approaching. The swim was hard going and slow; I was tired and starting to feel the chill. Otterbield was covered in seabirds and the associated muck; slippery and surrounded by screeching birds I just wanted to get on and off it as soon as possible. I wasn’t in doubt that I would finish, but was annoyed that I had got myself into the situation. Anne was on the far bank, but unable to see me. My cold-water head cap cut out her increasingly anxious calls into the darkness. Once I saw her light I could shout my proximity and assure I was OK, but it was an anxious time for her which could and should have been avoided, either by starting earlier or / and having a kayak alongside and a light on in my tow-bag.
The final run into town and the climb up the Moot Hall steps was great of course; a real sense of satisfaction at the end of an epic day of 17hrs 42 mins, but also the underlying knowledge that I had ‘got away with it’ and it wasn’t clever. Immediately after, my body pretty much closed down! Thankfully, home, bath, food, drink and bed were all nearby in Penrith. I was quite a mess.
Pleased to have done it? Definitely! Annoyed at the position I put Anne in during my final swim? Very!
As well as doing more specific run-swim training and upping the overall hill speed, what would I like to try next time and what lessons must I learn?
Go anticlockwise – get the long swim done early and if it going to end in the darkness be somewhere on Skiddaw not in Derwentwater.
Have a kayak alongside on the final swim, whichever one it is and put a light in the tow-bag if it’s anywhere near dusk.
Sort out the efficiency of changeover and spend less time faffing about with kit packing; practice a few times.
And, most importantly, if it’s not safe, don’t keep going. It could have ended quite differently.
The FGR is a fantastic day out, a superb route and of course a serious challenge. Better preparation and care would have ensured it was fun for those waiting and watching too. I look forward to an anticlockwise and perhaps a little wiser attempt in 2024.