Sunday 22 November. Time is running out.

Blencathra in the late afternoon sun, once the flood-bearing storms had finally cleared.

For all sorts of reasons, this has been a week of very little training, just one outing. A good one, which proved that I'm both fit and hardy, and also proved that the mountain judgement is still there, but I've fallen well short of my aims this week and of my consistent 10,000 feet+ of ascent per week.

It's not catastrophic, it's not an injury or an illness, but the window for getting another couple of 10 hour+ days in is closing fast.

I blame global warming. Well I do, sort of, spuriously. I also blame the in-laws, for having the audacity to come down and decorate our hall and landing at great effort and generosity. I also blame job hunting - unemployment was to give me chances to train but an interview (which is VERY promising) meant i couldn't train that day.

In-law duty meant that i couldn't spend all day every day buggering off to the lakes and leaving them wielding paintbrushes and sandpaper. So it meant negotiating an all-eggs-in-one-basket approach to training this week, i.e. getting up to the lakes on Thursday evening and getting a big day on Friday, starting in the small hours.

This is where global warming comes in. I hoped to get to Keswick on Thursday evening, get into the YHA, get to sleep, wake at 4am and get moving by 4.30, embarking on a 12 hour trip. The emphasis on big days out is really important to help me finish my preparation and with less than a month to go and with only one 10 hour+ day in the bank, (but over nine days of over 7 hours) it's vital.

The floods put paid to that. Arrival in Keswick on Thursday night was quite incredible. I pulled up on the bridge over the Greta on station road to find that access to the youth hostel was impossible (i had to resort to a BandB, the ignomany!). The river was flicking the underside of the bridge, which was an awe inspiring and terrifying sight. That river resembled an alpine post-glacial torrent, grey and violently fast and more malevolent for being in the dark. Everything was wet. The bowling green was a river bed, the roads were streams and the chances of a long day out were looking bleak.


Keswick and St Johns in the Vale under floodwater

Dutifully, i woke at four and looked out of the window. It was a horror. Lashing rain, gales and, worryingly, helicopters above helping those stricken in the floods. I decided to give the mountain rescue lads a night in (or, more likely, one less thing to do!) and wait till daylight. It was a little less wild but still raining hard when i set off up Clough Head, resolving to get a 6,000' day in by running to Dollywaggon Pike and back. The rain and hail were relentless at first and it didn't surprise me to find I had the Helvellyn range to myself. I pushed on, finding that despite the gale force wind and full pack, I was miles up on the 23 hour schedule. I felt really strong, really good. I ran some of the climbs and dealt with the weather pretty well.

By the time i returned to the car, 5 hours after leaving it, i felt like i'd hardly been out, despite 18 miles and 6000' in my legs in that weather. That is exactly how i'm hoping to feel after one leg of the BGR so in that sense it was a reassuring dress rehearsal. But i'm troubled by the fact that i'm running out of time for the big days.

Next week sees me doing a three day course and weekend away. Somehow I need to get some 10,000' days in, not just more 10,000' weeks. It's great that 10,000' a week seems easy now, but it really is not enough.

So, Monday and Snowdonia beckon, and a 2 day BGR the week after that...planetary forces permitting...